Thunderbird: Guardian Angel
by The Flying Hawaiian 001
Summary: "You know what the scariest thing is? To not know your place in this world. To not know why you're here. That's... that's just an awful feeling." Set during PP2, AU where Beca has powers and is an anti-hero. Revised version of one of my earlier stories. Rated R for violence, language, dark themes and moments, and sweet, blissful drama. Not BeChloe.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One: _Who Are You?_

 _ **I'd love to change the world… but I don't know what to do… so I leave it up to you.**_

Hi. I'm Emily, and this is my story.

Our story begins with a college. Yes, you read that right, a college. One in Atlanta, where folks from everywhere come to discover themselves. It's where folks come to discover themselves, same as any other college.

But, for most, myself included, there is something that draws more in to Barden than other colleges. What is it? What was it about this one college that drew us like moths to a flame?

For some, it was the people. The people, from what I've seen, seem like some of the nicest, most down-to-Earth folks you could ever meet. Heck, today I met this one guy who seemed really nice. Said his name was Benji… more on that, later.

For others, it was the environment. When I first applied for college, I knew I wanted to go to Barden because of the environment. It was a nice campus in the middle of Atlanta, with plenty of people sitting on the grass, interacting with each other, living life.

But for me, for me personally, it was all about one thing, and one thing only: the Bellas. The 'best damn acapella group at Barden'. It's really hard to argue with that statement, if I'm being truthful.

My Mom had prepared me my entire life to join them. She had to know what she was getting me into.

But when I first came a few days ago, they didn't know what to think of me. They looked at me more as a kid-sister than an actual Bella. Not many of them thought much of me. Most of them seemed nice, and welcomed me into the group. But none of them were that interested in me.

But that's not what we're here to talk about, is it? No, what we're here to talk about is just what the fuck happened last night.

* * *

"I don't wanna talk about it." Jesse Swanson said, talking loudly into the cell phone, as he paced around the room, annoyed. " _It's only a few weeks into the new semester, and already we're back to doing this shit. I hope that at least something comes out of this."_

"Jess, please. I need you to listen, just this one time." A voice spoke to him. A female voice. Young, yet not very high. "Why should I? I thought we said we'd leave each other alone after we split, remember?" He bitterly asked.

"I know, but… there's something I wanted to get off my chest. And it's about that." She explained. Jesse sighed. The tall, black-haired boy had tried to ignore her for months, now. He didn't want to talk to her anymore, and neither did she. So, why just now was she suddenly interested in talking to him again?

"Whatever it is you have to say, make it quick. I don't want my time wasted anymore than it already was." Jesse said. He knew he shouldn't have been so angry at her, but, at the same time… was it warranted?

He had gone back and forth on it so many times. A part of him was angry, yes. But another part of him understood. When they were together, there was always some part of him that knew she didn't feel the same way he did.

Jesse cautiously backed his head against the wall, and closed his eyes. "Just… just tell me what you need to tell me. I'm sorry that I seem so snappy. It's just… I have a lot on my plate, right now. And I don't want to take that out on you. So, just tell me what you need to tell me. I'm listening." He said, in a low, soft voice.

So, Beca Anne Mitchell sighed, and cleared her throat. "You remember how I said that I didn't really hang out with anyone in high school? How I never went to parties, or did after school stuff? There was a reason for that."

Jesse nodded his head, but he wasn't understanding what point Beca was trying to get across. "Okay. Why was that?" He asked, confused.

"I'm getting there. Did you ever hear about a… a person who wore a hood, and who… y'know… fought crime? In Chicago?" She asked. "Yeah… I did, a few times." Jesse replied.

"Well… that person disappeared the same time I came to Barden. Nobody knows where the person went. But… I think I have an idea." She explained.

Jesse's eyes widened, as he realized what she was trying to get through to him. "Becs…" He softly said, his voice growing more fearful. His stomach churned. The truth sank into him, like a boat in the ocean.

"And… I think it's time that vigilante returned." Beca finished, clearing her throat once more. "Beca… don't do something you're gonna regret." Jesse warned. He hadn't been this nervous in quite some time.

Nervous? Fuck that. He was terrified. How could she? He had heard stories. Read rumors and articles in the papers. But he never believed they were true. Until now.

He remembered, on one instance in Junior year, he was reading the paper. On the front page, it read something along the lines of, "Crime down 50%! Reports coming in of masked vigilante tackling it head-on! Is it possible?"

The story told of criminals, and how they had robbed a liquor store. There were six of them, all middle-aged, male, and with guns. Within five minutes, they had been tied up.

When the police found them, their guns had no bullets left in them. Their pocket-knives were on the ground, or, in some cases, lodged in the criminals' bodies. And that was if they were lucky.

The criminals said that they had been lifted into the air, and slammed into the wall. But they couldn't see what it was levitating them. All that anyone could report seeing was someone in a hood, stretching out his or her hands.

"Hello? Jesse?" Beca asked. But the boy was lost in his thought. He could only think back on the stories, and how he never believed in them.

Suddenly, he snapped out of his semi-trance, and shook his head. "Beca… I'm afraid. I mean, I figured you were just antisocial then, and a little antisocial now, but this… Christ, this is something else, entirely!" He exclaimed, clearly exasperated.

"Yeah, I know. I know. I get it. It's just that…", Beca started, only to stop, for some reason. "What? What is it?" Jesse questioned. "I've never told anyone about this. And I figured that it was time to change that. And, if I was gonna tell anybody, it'd be someone I trust."

Beca bit her lip after saying this. Every word of what she just said was true. She had never told anyone about the more 'dangerous' part of her life. She was always told, 'never let anyone know what you can do'. Just like that.

In her mind, Beca always remembered: ' _Never let anyone know who you really are, or what you can really do. They'll never understand. How could they? To them, you'd be nothing more than a freak. Nothing more, nothing less. That's why they can never know.'_

"Beca… I heard stories of what you could do. Of what people said you could do. Were they true?" Jesse questioned. Beca sighed, and answered the question. "Yes, Jesse. They were true. Each and every story. Whatever they said, it was true."

Jesse trembled with fear. He had to set down the phone for a moment. He put his shaking hand to his mouth. " _Breathe in, Swanson. Breathe in, breathe out."_

After doing this for twenty seconds, he sighed, and brought the phone back to his ear. "Beca… what exactly can you do? Just tell me that. Please. That's… that's all I want to know for now." He blurted out.

"Well, there's no sugar-coating this: I… there are things that I can do. Things that I'm not too certain about with myself, things that I never thought that anyone could do. I'm not like you, or Chloe, or Amy… I'm not even like my Dad. I'm a freak, Jesse. And soon, the world will come to realize just how real I am."

Jesse's heartbeat was racing. He couldn't believe what he was hearing. He wouldn't believe it. He refused to believe it. In that moment, he was closest to hanging up the phone, and putting this nonsense out of his memory, and to bed.

But he didn't. He wanted to know more. Some part of him needed, no, desired to know more. And so, he continued to listen. But, even more importantly, he continued to ask.

"Becs… I don't understand. Why are you telling me this? Me, of all people? Why don't you tell one of the Bellas? Why not Chloe, or Amy, or that new recruit you've got?" He asked, frightened, but not angry. More… desperate. Desperate for answers.

"Jess… I wanted to tell you because, honestly, I have no one else to tell. I mean, look at the Bellas now. We're a fucking disaster zone. Ever since Amy's little 'accident', we've been nothing but the ass of everyone's jokes. We get death threats on a weekly fucking basis. Chloe's a mess, and now we have a new kid in the group. This sounds ideal for telling secrets, right? Wrong." Beca explained, as she sat down on her bed, which Jesse could hear in the background.

"Jesus, Beca… I, I had no idea. I'm sorry." Jesse apologized. "It's not your fault. It's just… I needed to get this off my chest to someone, especially before I get back into the swing of things." Beca said, a slyness in her voice.

Jesse raised his eyebrows. "'The swing of things'?" He asked, his nervousness returning. Even though he couldn't see her, Beca nodded her head.

"Yes. See, I'm not just telling you about what I have planned. I want you to be ready for what I'm about to do." She finished, as Jesse's heart-rate increased. "What exactly are you about to do?" He questioned.

* * *

Stacie Conrad was nervous. She didn't like the feel of Barden at night. There was always something about it that scared her. "Why did I have to leave my bag inside the dean's office, today?" She asked herself, knowing that there was no one around her to hear what she was saying.

Earlier that day, she and the other Barden Bellas had been told to go to the dean. When they arrived, they were reprimanded, mocked, and essentially cast out by their own dean. All because of Fat Amy's 'accident'.

She groaned, irritated with everything going on around her. Still, at least the Dean's office was still open at night, so, there was that to make her feel a little better.

As Stacie paced toward the office, she had failed to notice someone staring at her from behind. A figure obscured in the shadows, watching her, waiting. Waiting for her to come out of the Dean's office.

Stacie opened the door, and walked right in. As she did so, she saw her bag sitting on the chair that she sat in earlier, as she and her friends waited to be seen by the Dean.

She smiled, and grabbed the bag. " _There you are, you little beauty. Thought I'd lost ya."_ Stacie thought to herself, as she took the bag, wrapped it around her shoulder, and left.

And then there was the cool air, again. As much as she was nervous at the moment, Stacie loved the night air at Barden. It always gave her such a sensational feeling, one that was to be appreciated when felt.

She closed her eyes, and breathed it in. It felt nice. Warm. A cozy feeling that lifted her body to some other reality. Something that made her feel calmer than before. Unfortunately for her, it wouldn't last long.

As she finally breathed out, sighing as she opened her eyes, Stacie started walking away once more.

Walking back to Casa Bella, she saw something quite peculiar. At first, Stacie was not sure if her eyes were playing tricks on her, but, for a second, she thought she saw, at the top of the East Dorm, a person. A person standing on top of the roof, looking down at them. But she couldn't make out the person's face, for it was too far away to see.

For a moment, Stacie considered calling out the girl, but instead, she bit her lip, and went against that notion. She sighed, and rolled her eyes. Then, she turned around to walk away.

But, as she did, she saw someone standing right in front of her. His sudden appearance proved to be quite startling. He was a senior boy, looking no older than her, but definitely taller. "Hiya, pretty thing." The guy said, slowly walking toward her.

Cautiously, Stacie gripped her back. "Um… hi." She said, obviously nervous. "Hey, what's the matter? Is everything alright?" He asked, in a somewhat condescending manner.

Stacie took notice of this, and backed away for a moment. "Well, I'm just trying to go home." She said honestly. This made the boy smile. "Oh, really? That soon after we just get to talking?" He asked, in a fake-sounding hurt voice.

Her eyes widened. She could tell he was up to no good. He didn't seem like it. "What-what do you want?" She stuttered, the fear in her voice all-too evident. The boy smiled, and said, "Just a little fun. It's been too long since I've had fun. And surely, it sounds like you, and maybe even your friends, can help."

Stacie was disturbed. She didn't like this guy. She didn't like the vibe he was putting off, or the way he spoke to her. Nothing about him seemed trustworthy. So, she turned around, and walked back to Casa Bella in a different direction.

As she walked, she had a nagging suspicion that this guy would follow her. It clawed at her like a crab on her leg. She gulped, and looked around, seeing the senior slowly walk behind her.

Stacie faced forward, and cautiously walked somewhat faster. She looked around once more, and saw the guy still coming up behind her. His smile… dear God, his smile.

It was ghoulish, haunting, almost non-human. Stacie could tell just by the look on his face alone, the way his mouth was curled, the smile… it felt off. And Stacie wanted no further interaction with this guy.

Now, she was full-on running. She didn't care if he came after her. She was fast. She knew she could outrun him, and outsmart him. So, she ran. Ran as fast as she could, her heartbeat intensifying as she did so.

Stacie never looked behind her to see if he was still following her. She never bothered to see if he was running, too. All that she was focused on was getting away from him.

She saw a corner. " _Oh, thank God. I can lose him that way, just in case he is coming up behind me."_ She thought, running faster than she had in quite some time.

Then, just as she came up to the corner, she was grabbed by two strong hands, taking Stacie both of guard and off her feet.

Her screams were muffled. No one could possibly hear her, the way her mouth was covered by the two hands that grabbed her. She felt her entire body shaking. Stacie tried to break free, but the person who had her in his grasp was too strong.

He laughed as he held onto her. She couldn't see who he was, but she heard his laugh. It was cold, dead, and heinous. Stacie was so trapped by this person, that she couldn't even open her mouth to bite his hand, even if she tried.

Then, she saw two other boys coming toward him, laughing as much as the guy she was being held by. But the cherry on the shit sundae was the creepy bastard who she had encountered just a few minutes ago, walking over, and laughing himself.

"Well, well, well… how do you do, miss? Now, like I was saying earlier, before you so rudely ran off, I need a little fun. I've gone too long without having any fun. And so have my friends. And we were hoping that you could provide us with a little fun…" The boy chuckled darkly, as he pulled out a knife from his pocket.

Stacie's eyes widened, as she stared at the knife, and the boy slowly walking toward her with the knife. His friends laughed, as she tried to scream.

As the boy came closer to her, she saw an opportunity, and took it. Stacie headbutted the guy, knocking him back to his feet. Then, she herself was dropped onto the ground, and kicked by the big lug who was holding her.

Then, the two other guys kicked her a few times as well, knocking her onto her back. The first boy, now back on his feet, and with blood coming out of his mouth, walked toward her, and said, "Get her arms. And her knees."

Stacie tried to scream, but the first boy slapped her, and covered her mouth. As tears streamed down her face, all of them laughed. But the first guy moved his face towards hear ear, and whispered, "I've heard stories about the little slutbag in the Barden Bellas. So I want you to feel everything, whore."

After saying this, Stacie stopped squirming, knowing that there was nothing else she could do to stop this. Nothing could save her in this moment. It was a bitter pill to swallow, and a harsh call to reality.

But as the first boy laughed, grabbing his knife from the ground, and preparing to tear open Stacie's clothing with it, the laughter, suddenly and out of nowhere, stopped.

All that Stacie heard was the sound of a knife, and a groan of pain. "Uh… auga… aughhhhh! AHHH!" The boy screamed, as he fell back in pain.

At first, Stacie couldn't understand why he was screaming, or what was even going on. Then, she saw, and she was just as shocked as the other boys.

The leader had the very knife he tried to cut her with lodged into his abdomen. Blood gushed out, as the knife twisted into him, further causing him pain.

"What the fuck?" The biggest guy, the one who took hold of her, said, horrified at the state of his friend. Then, as he took a moment to process it all, he himself was lifted into the air, and flung into the wall.

The guy moaned, groaned, and whimpered in pain, as he slunk to the ground. And the other two stood by each other, their knives being taken out of their pockets, and into their hands.

"C-Come out and face us!" The taller of the two said, trembling. "A-Are you s-s-scared, huh?! F-Figures!" The shorter stuttered. Both were terrified, and Stacie could see this.

Then, what she could see astonished her. From out of nowhere, someone jumped to the ground, and smashed their fists into the taller boys' back, knocking him head-first onto the ground.

The other spun around, and stabbed the figure in the shoulder. But… the figure didn't scream. Instead, they grabbed the boy's arm, and began to crush it.

When the knife that was in his hands fell to the ground, he screamed, crying a blood curdling cry into the night. As the figure's grip on his arm increased, he fell to the ground, and onto his knees.

As he cried, and whimpered, and as big, fat tears streamed down his face in the moonlight, Stacie watched as the figure, who was almost entirely obscured by shadows, leaned down, and whispered something into the boy's ear.

She didn't know what it was that the figure said, but she swore that she heard her say, loudly and clearly, "If you ever try to harm her, or anyone like that ever again, next time, it won't be your arm that's the only broken part of your body."

And then, the person broke his arm completely. The breaking, snapping sound of bones made Stacie cringe, and his cry only made it worse. The figure must have been aware of this, because the next thing he or she did was knock him out completely.

Stacie could hear the figure breathing heavily. It sounded like… a girl. It was a girl that had rescued her. A woman. And that woman had spun around, and looked directly at her.

Stacie backed up to the wall, fear in her eyes, and tightness in her stomach. She was frightened. And the woman knew this. Slowly, the figure walked toward Stacie. Then, for the first time, she spoke. "Are you hurt?"

Stacie was confused. She had no idea how to feel, or what to do. "I'm sorry that this happened to you. But I promise you, they will not spend another day at this university. They'll spend their next few weeks in a court of law, being put on trial. Don't worry, though. They will face judgement for this."

Then, as the figure came closer, Stacie looked up, and had something of a better idea of what she was looking at. She couldn't see too well, but she made out who she was looking at.

It was a woman of shorter stature. Something was draped over her head. Perhaps a hood? And yet, she was still obscured by the shadows of the night sky.

Stacie knew she should have thanked this person. Why wouldn't she? Whoever this brave woman was, she saved her life. But there was that tiny detail: **WHO** was she? And so, the first thing that came out of her mouth was not 'thank you', but rather, "Who are you?"

The woman, at first, did not speak. Instead, she looked down at the girl who sat against the wall, fearful, her heart-rate racing. Then, she did. "I'm nothing more than someone who just wants to change the world for the better. There's too much ugliness in this world, already. And I want to help fix it."

Then, she tilted her head, inspecting Stacie's body for injuries. What she saw made her frown, even if the poor girl couldn't see it. There was blood trickling down Stacie's mouth, her right eye was bruised, and her shirt torn open.

So, the woman outstretched her hand to Stacie. "Take it." She said, calmly and soothingly.

Then, just as Stacie outstretched her own hand, her eyes began to flutter, and her head slumped to the ground, along with her body. All consciousness had left, and Stacie Conrad had fallen asleep, physically and mentally exhausted.

"Oh, God." The hooded figure said, before pulling a phone out of her pocket, and dialing a number. As it rang, she looked back at Stacie, fearful for her life. Then… "9-1-1, what's your emergency?" An operator asked over the phone.

Then, Beca spoke in her natural voice, saying, "I need to report an attempted rape. Barden University. Four men lying on the ground, all of them tried to hurt this poor girl. She's slumped against a wall, and unconscious. Please, send an ambulance." Then, she hung up.

Beca waited. She waited until she could hear and see the sirens in the distance. And once she could, her heartbeat was not as intense. And this reassurance of help, of police and an ambulance, gave her an exit cue.

But before she was out of sight, she knelt down by the girl, and said, in a hushed voice, "I'm so sorry, Stacie."

And then, she was gone. Out of sight. No longer visible. And as the lights and sirens approached, Stacie's eyes slightly opened, and she saw the flashing of those red lights, heard the "WHOO-WHOO" sound of the sirens, and watched as they stopped to a halt.

As soon as they stopped, police and doctors got out of their vehicles, and ran over to the scene of the crime. The police had their flashlights whipped out, and their guns trained on the men laying on the ground.

The doctors, on the other hand, had a gurney stretched out, and were rushing over to Stacie. Speaking of which, Stacie groaned in pain, as a female doctor rushed over to her.

"Hey, hey! Miss, can you tell me your name?" She asked, flashing a light in Stacie's eyes. The girl nodded her head, and said, "Stacie… Stacie Conrad…"

The doctor sighed heavily, and asked, "Okay… Stacie, can you tell me what happened? To you, and to these men?

For a moment, Stacie simply looked at the doctor. She stared at her face. She was young, pretty, had brown hair. The expression on her face said it all. She was worried, and she had every reason to be worried.

"I… I just came to grab my bag… and these guys started harassing me. Then, they tried to… they tried to…" She began, but couldn't bring herself to finish the sentence. Instead, she choked up, and sobbed. Tears ran down her face, as she looked into her lap.

The doctor sympathetically looked at her, and put her hand on Stacie's right shoulder. "Hey, look at me. Look at me, Stacie. Everything is gonna be okay. I just need you to tell me what else happened."

Stacie, who still had tears stinging her eyes, looked at the doctor, and breathed heavily. In and out. Five times. Finally, she could finish what she wanted to say. "They tried to rape me. But I thought I saw someone, a woman… stop them."

Then, in the corner of her eye, as the doctor explained to her that she would be taken into care at Grady Memorial Hospital, Stacie saw someone. The same woman who had saved her. And all that ran through her mind, as she was lifted onto the gurney, and taken to the hospital, was, " _Who are you?"_


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: _Never Let Anyone Know..._

It was only my first week, and already, I got to see some drama. But simply calling it 'drama' is insulting to the situation, and to Stacie. I mean, she was nearly raped, for Chrissake. Oh, God. I feel sick just typing that down.

I mean, what the Hell? I thought that Barden University was supposed to be a safe, friendly environment, where people 'came to find themselves, and live their lives'. That's what my Mom told me, and that's what I saw when I came here on my first day.

I mean, Jesus… this is fucked up. And I've heard my Dad and Mom doing it on Friday nights. Oh, God. Focus, Emily. This is no time for another one of your dumb jokes. Nobody even finds them funny, remember?

Okay, back on track… anyhow, even though I had only just met her, I still felt awful for Stacie. No one deserves that. And I can't imagine how awful she must feel.

But it wasn't just that which worried me. No, what worried me, and the other Bellas, was what Stacie would tell me and the other Bellas when we visited her in the hospital, that day.

* * *

The sound of an alarm clock going off was what woke the sleeping brunette up. Her hair was draped across her face, and unkempt beyond all belief.

She yawned, running her hand over her face, and shaking her head. At that moment, Beca Mitchell rubbed her eyes with one hand, and grabbed her iPhone from off of the charger with the other.

Beca clicked on the button beneath the bottom of her bright screen, and saw that it was 8:30 in the morning. She had slept in, since the alarm was set for 8:00. Oh, well. Everyone needs a little self-kindness, every now and then.

She got off of the bed, and saw that her roommate, Amy, wasn't in the room with her. " _Must be downstairs…"_ Beca thought to herself.

So, Beca got dressed, grabbing a green and grey t-shirt, and a pair of black skinny jeans. After slipping on the jeans, she opened the door to her room, and walked downstairs.

* * *

Casa Bella was quiet. Aside from the sound of the TV in the background, and the coffee-maker working its magic, Chloe Beale sat against the window, her fingers pressed into her cheek as she stared at the bright, sunny surroundings.

She hadn't slept at all the previous night. How could she? Not after hearing about what happened to Stacie. She sat, quietly sipping her coffee as she found herself lost in thought.

The other Bellas hadn't done much better in the sleep category, either. Almost all of them had stayed up all night, worried sick about their friend. And Chloe couldn't stand the sight of it.

In all her time at Barden, even the years she had flunked just to stay in college, she had never thought it possible that there would be students who would even attempt to flat-out rape another student, especially one she considered a close friend.

It scared her, left her wondering what it would have been like if Stacie wasn't saved somehow, or if it was her, or Beca, or any of the other Bellas in the same situation. How would they deal with it?

Beca crept down the stairs, observing the sight before her. Her fellow Bellas, an all-female acapella group, doing nothing. Just sitting on their asses, eating breakfast, looking tired and miserable as Hell. It was a sad thing to behold, and Beca was heartbroken by it.

The second she set foot on the first floor, Chloe took her attention away from the outside, and looked at her friend. "Uh, hey. What's going on, guys?"

In response, most of the other girls frowned, and looked forlornly at one another. Chloe especially seemed… broken. Like she had no idea what to do, anymore.

"Guys? Is something wrong?" Beca asked, trying to sound oblivious, and not as angry as the others. On the outside, she appeared clueless, unaware. On the inside, however, was a different story.

When she took on those boys… she felt a rage inside her that she never knew she could feel. Beca felt like an animal harming them. And what she did to them was nowhere near as bad as what she could have done to them.

That boy with the knife... the leader, she presumed… she could have easily used that knife to castrate him. She could have slit his throat, and stabbed him to death multiple times.

The big guy... she could have crushed his larynx, broken his kneecaps, or shattered his spine.

And the other two meatheads, the one she sent flying forward, and the one who tried to stab her… she could have done wonders to the two of them. She could have snapped both of their necks, just using her mind, and she'd do so before she even had time to blink.

But Beca didn't do any of those things. In a way, she spared them more pain and devastation, which was what they deserved. But not solely by her hands and mind.

All that mattered to Beca at the moment was Stacie. As much as she had to pretend to be oblivious to what had happened, she felt as much pain and anguish as the other Bellas. She wanted those boys dead.

But, sometimes, you don't always get what you want.

"Last night… somebody attacked Stacie, when she went to the dean's office to grab her bag. They… they…", Chloe started, but she couldn't bring herself to finish. She broke down, and buried her head in her face.

Hearing her friend, her best friend, of all people, just crying, made Beca's heart sink. She looked to the other Bellas, a look of fear and sadness on her face. She looked at all of them, and sought an answer. But she could find none of them had one.

"I know… I understand. Oh, God. Is she okay? Where is she?" Beca asked. In spite of knowing that Stacie was in a hospital, she still feared for her friend. God only knows how traumatized she must have been.

Chloe wiped the tears and snot from her face, and said, "She's at Grady Memorial Hospital. We… we should visit her, at least once, today." In response, Beca looked to the other Bellas, and saw them nodding their heads in agreement. All of them had tears coming down their own faces.

Except for one of them. Emily Junk, the Legacy. The newbie. The young, black-haired girl that Chloe texted her about. This girl had nothing to say. Why would she? She barely knew Stacie, and hadn't really gotten to know her, not like the others.

At the same time, Beca felt sorry for Emily. It was only her first day, and someone she got to know, even if it was just someone she barely knew, was nearly sexually assaulted. " _Poor kid."_

"Well, what are we doing here? We should get dressed, go to the damn hospital already, and see Stace." Cynthia-Rose, one member of the Bellas, suggested. "I'm with CR on this one." Amy added in.

"Then what are we waiting for? Let's get moving, guys." Beca commanded, as the others went to their rooms to get dressed. Then, she herself went over to Chloe, who sat in her bathrobe, and touched her on the hand.

"Chlo…", Beca silently whispered, to which the tall redhead looked at her with big, sopping tears in her eyes. Then, Beca pulled the girl into a hug, and close her own eyes.

Chloe appreciated the gesture, and hugged Beca back. She smiled, but not her normal, happy smile. No, this one was sad. Small. Told Beca everything she needed to know about her current emotional status.

" _I promise you guys, I will never let anyone hurt you… Ever."_

* * *

An hour later, and the girls were at the hospital, sitting in the waiting room. As Chloe went up to the receptionist, and tried to explain how they wanted to see Stacie, Beca and the others sat in their chairs, waiting to see their friend.

Beca herself sat next to Emily. The kid had no one else to really talk to, seeing as how she had only been there for a day. And, as expected, the black-haired freshman tried to strike up a conversation.

"Uh… hi. I'm Emily." She started, awkwardly. Beca looked at the girl, and stared awkwardly. "Hi. Chloe texted me about you. Said you're a 'Legacy', whatever the Hell that is." Beca replied.

The youngest and newest Bella nodded her head. "Yeah. My Mom was a former Bella. So, by blood, that makes me one, too." Emily explained, a nervous smile on her face.

"So, you just move here?" Beca asked. "Yeah. I've never actually been to Atlanta before, so, it's a nice change of pace from my home and hometown. Or, at least I thought it would be." Emily said, biting her lip after that last part.

Beca frowned, and her mind wandered back to why they were there in the first place. "Speaking of which, I… I just realized that I never saw you at the party, last night. But all of the girls were talking about you. Especially Chloe. I mean, do you have any idea how much that girl admires you?" Emily asked, clueless to Beca's despondency.

"Hmm? Oh, uh… yeah. I, uh, I had an idea. Sorry, I'm just… I'm really distracted. And… I'm worried about my friend." Beca admitted. The younger girl looked sympathetically at her, and put her hand on her shoulder.

"Hey. It wasn't your fault. You shouldn't feel bad about it." Emily said, a warm smile on her face. In turn, Beca smiled, and responded with, "Thanks, Legacy."

Emily's smile widened, as she took her hand off of Beca's shoulder. "So… where exactly were you, last night?"

Beca's eyes widened. Her mind had went from thinking about Stacie, to what had happened the previous night. All of a sudden, everything that had happened had come back completely to her. It was as if it was happening again.

She remembered everything. The knife, the levitation, the punches, the attempted stabbing, and the breaking of bones. The bodies lying on the floor. And poor Stacie Conrad, crying, shaking, her shirt torn open, and her breathing heavy. She focused on the pain… the only thing that was real.

But Beca couldn't tell Emily this. She couldn't tell any of them about this. Who would believe her? And if they did, what would they think? " _Never let anyone know who you really are, or what you can really do. They'll never understand. How could they? To them, you'd be nothing more than a freak. Nothing more, nothing less. That's why they can never know."_

So, she lied. Right through her teeth. To the new kid. "I felt sick. So, I lied down, and was knocked out the whole night. Sorry to disappoint, kid."

Emily nodded in understanding. "Oh. That's okay. I mean, we all get a little sick sometimes, right?" She said, chuckling a little. Beca chuckled, also. But, in reality, Beca couldn't remember the last time she was sick. In fact, come to think of it, she never was sick. There was no specific time she could think of when she was a child, and she got sick. Not one.

* * *

After fifteen minutes of waiting, Chloe came back. She breathed in for a moment, and sighed. "They said that we can go in." She said, much to the relief of the others.

They all got up, and walked down to room 5C, following both Chloe and a nurse. As they walked through the halls, Emily tried not to focus on the patients being carried into other rooms, or the ones being treated. She caught only brief glimpses of some of them, and what she saw was not what anyone would want to see that early in the morning.

What she could see were burn victims, people with only one leg being treated, or folks with severe skin diseases. She looked away. Not because she was disgusted, but because she did not want to see these things. That was understandable, right? Of course it was, she told herself. It was nothing personal…

When they finally reached the room that Stacie was in, the nurse turned to all of them, and explained, "It's best that you all keep a calm voice, and be as soft as you can. She's… she's not doing so hot. Go right in, but please, bear this in mind."

The young women nodded their heads, and, with that, Chloe reached for the doorknob, and grabbed it. Then, she twisted it, and opened the door wide-open for all of them to walk through.

They walked in, and saw her. There was collective gasping and shock amongst all of them, but none of them more so than Beca. Laying down on the cot was Stacie, simply staring at the wall. The television set in the upper-left corner was on, but she wasn't paying attention. She apathetically watched the wall, looking for something. But, in that blank wall, she found nothing.

Tears formed in the corners of Beca's eyes. She breathed heavily, and turned around for a moment. Shame. That was what she felt. Shame for never seeing how what could have happened to Stacie must have happened to so many others at Barden before her. And she did nothing to 'jump back into action' sooner.

"Hey, Stace. We all came to see you." Chloe said, a lump in her voice. It was all too obvious to Stacie and the other Bellas that she was trying her best not to cry.

Stacie weakly smiled at the sight of her friends. Just them simply being there for her… that made her smile. "Hey, guys… uh, you can come closer, if you want."

Her words took heed, and soon, the Bellas, while still keeping their distance, stood close to Stacie. The sight of it just made them… it made them miserable. They could hardly bare even thinking about what would have happened had… had…

"Hey, guys. Don't… don't look so down, okay? I'm just hurt. That's all. I'm not dead, and I wasn't…", Stacie began, only to abruptly stop at that part. She looked around at her friends, the girls she had grown to love and care about as much as anyone at home, and found that tears were coming down her own cheeks.

They prickled at her face like the needles on a pine tree. Stacie breathed heavily, and broke down in a sob. And that… that did it for Beca. With tears streaming down her own face, she went over, and hugged her friend, who accepted the gesture.

"I'm so sorry. I'm… I'm so sorry, Stace." She sobbed, her head resting against Stacie's chest. The other girl, also sobbing, said, "It's not your fault, Beca. This… this wasn't your doing. And, still, I wasn't… it didn't happen to me, okay?"

But that didn't reassure Beca. No matter what, she still couldn't deny how awful she felt for Stacie. " _No one should ever have to be scared like that, or threatened to be fucking raped. No one."_

After another minute or so, Beca took her head from off of its resting spot on Stacie, and wiped the tears from her face. "Thank you, Becs. But I'll be okay. I promise." Stacie smiled, the tears still in her eyes.

Beca nodded her head, and took a seat in one of the chairs. She breathed in a deep, heavy breath, and looked out at the city through the window. She stared at the buildings, the people going off to work, the parents dropping their kids off at work, everything. Everything and anything that she could see, she studied like a map. " _Don't worry, guys. I won't let anything bad happen to you."_

Chloe pursed her lips, as she took a stand next to her friend laying down on the bed. A question tugged at her mind, but she wasn't entirely sure is she should ask it. But, at the same time, the question grabbed at her mind like a fish with its mouth on bait.

So, she breathed in, and cleared her throat. "Uh, Stace? I… I'm not trying to upset you, but… I want to know something." She stuttered, as Stacie looked at her.

"What's up, red?" Stacie asked. "Um… when… when it happened… all of the guys who tried to attack you… they were on the ground. How did that happen?" Chloe semi-blurted out.

At this point, all the eyes of the Bellas, including Beca, were on Chloe. " _Oh, shit."_ Beca thought to herself, a nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach.

"Chloe, I don't know if that's the best question-" Amy started, clearly afraid of how Stacie would react. Even for as crude, crass, and offensive as she could be, even she knew that some questions didn't need to be asked, especially in situations like this.

"No, no. Amy, it's… it's fine. That's actually the one thing I wanted to tell you all about." Stacie said, surprising everyone. "Well, if that's the case, don't just wait! Tell us!" Cynthia-Rose interrupted.

Stacie lightly chuckled, and sighed. "I… I didn't see who it was. But, whoever it was, I knew that it was a girl. I could see her shadow. And… from what I could make out, she was wearing a hoodie. I couldn't see her face, but I could see what she did. Most of the guys… she just took them out. She didn't even need to touch them. And when she did… she was fighting like a demon. Like a warrior, even. I… I don't know who she is, and I probably never will, but, dammit, if I ever get a chance to meet her again, I hope I can thank her."

And, with that, Stacie drifted off to sleep. And, as she did, the last thing she saw was her friends, their jaws dropped, and their faces showing clear astonishment.

* * *

In the van, and on the way back, the Bellas said nothing to one another. All they could do was stare at their feet, as if there was anything interesting happening beneath them.

Everyone had something different on their minds. But none of them had as many distressed thoughts as Beca. Her heart was doing somersaults, and her head was trying to wrap around how her friends took the 'news' of her appearance the other night.

Beca was worried enough by the thought of her friends merely learning that she was more the small, smart-mouthed DJ that they'd come to know and accept. Them learning that there was someone on their planet with the powers that Beca had scared her even more.

She tried to put the thoughts out of her mind, but couldn't. She couldn't stop fearing for the worst, in spite of her attempts to hope for the best.

" _Never let anyone know who you really are, or what you can really do. They'll never understand. How could they? To them, you'd be nothing more than a freak. Nothing more, nothing less. That's why they can never know."_

* * *

Two days later, Emily sat at the kitchen table in Casa Bella. It was early in the morning, and her fingers were typing away furiously at the keyboard. She was documenting the events that took place so far at Barden, and her take on them.

"'And now, I'm left thinking… who is this girl, and why is she doing this?' Does that sound good?" She thought to herself, tapping on her own chin.

Then, she turned her attention to the stairs. She heard someone coming down them, yawning. It was Beca, dressed in sweatpants and a t-shirt. Only when she got to the bottom of the stairs did she realize that Emily was there.

"Oh. Uh… hi, kid. What the Hell are you doing up so early?", The pale-skinned, tired brunette asked. Emily shrugged her shoulders. "I'm just writing." She plainly said. "Huh. What about?" Beca questioned. "Oh, you know… stuff, things."

Beca raised her eyebrows, and slightly smirked. "Okay… I'm writing about life at Barden. The things that I've seen so far, the people I've met, that kind of stuff." Emily explained, giving into Beca's questioning.

"Oh, I get it. You looking to become a writer?" Beca asked. Emily enthusiastically nodded her head. "Mmm hmm! I want to write primarily fiction, but I also want to get a taste of writing about real things that happen in my life, first. What do you think?"

"Um… I like it. But, don't you think you'd like to actually have people see your writing instead of just keeping it to yourself all the time?" Beca asked. "Maybe. What are you trying to say? I should start writing Fanfiction?" Emily joked, a smirk forming on her own face.

Beca chuckled. "No, that's not what I'm saying. I'm saying you should try and get your writing seen by people." She explained. "Well, that is not a bad idea. But the only problem is I don't know where someone would want to see my writing." Emily replied.

Then, Beca got a look on her face that said something else entirely. She had an idea. And Emily could tell. "What?" She asked, only to get no response. "WHAT?" She repeated, and still no response.

Then, Beca walked over to the table, and took a seat next to her. "Have you heard of Barden Weekly? Because I have a few friends who'd be interested in some new faces."

* * *

At 3:00 that day after all her classes had been finished, Emily walked to where Beca told her to go. She was nervous, but not overtly nervous. Above all else, she was excited to finally have a chance to share her writing with people. It was what she had wanted for a good long while. And given the opportunity to showcase what she could do, she took it.

She walked to the building that Beca instructed her to go to, and found herself at a big building in the middle of the campus. She took a deep breath, and looked at the building before her. Then, she let said deep breath out, and smiled. " _Look out, world. Here comes Emily Junk!"_

Emily walked in, and came across a room with around ten people in it. On the door, there was a sign that said 'Barden Weekly: Bringing You Campus News on a Weekly Basis!'

She walked in, and heard an older man talking. "Now, here are your-", Emily caught him saying, only for him to stop the second she walked in. All of a sudden, all eyes were on her. Including the eyes of the person who was talking, whom she assumed was the editor-in-chief.

He was an older man. Balding, a clean shaven face, and wearing a button-down shirt and black jeans. He stared directly at her, as she bit her lip. "Uh… I'm sorry for interrupting. I was told that this was the 'base of operations' for Barden Weekly." Emily nervously explained.

The editor-in-chief nodded his head. "Right. What's your name?" He asked. "Uh… it's… it's…", Emily stuttered, intimidated by this man. "She's with me. She's new to the campus, and wants to write." A voice said.

Emily looked over to see who said this. Sitting at a table was Jessica Smith, one of the other Bellas. She wore a grey beanie over her head, and mouthed to Emily, "Beca texted me."

Emily nodded her head, and looked at the editor. "Is this true, miss?" He asked. "Emily. Emily Junk. Yeah, it's true. I… I want to write. And I want to take my shot at it before I graduate." Emily said, gathering herself.

"Well, then. Nice to meet you, Emily. I'm Nathan Ross, but most people just call me 'Boss'. Please, take a seat. I'm sure that Jessica will be willing to help you, if you need it. That, and there's someone else who might be able to, also. In fact, where is he? Ugh… Benji! Benji, get out here!" Ross yelled, prompting the others, including Emily to laugh.

At that moment, she took a seat next to Jessica, considering that she was the only one she knew. She whispered, "Thanks." The blonde winked, and whispered back, "Don't mention it."

They both looked up, and Emily saw Benjamin 'Benji' Applebaum, one of the boys she encountered on her first day at Barden, walk out of the supply closet. "Benji, what the Hell were you doing in there?" Ross asked.

Benji shrugged his shoulders, and said, "Somebody said that the supply closet needed cleaning." Ross shook his head. "Well, quit cleaning, and introduce yourself to the new recruit." He demanded, looking in Emily's direction.

As he looked, Emily blushed a little. Benji smiled when he saw her. "Uh… actually, Boss, we already know each other. We met a few days ago." He explained. "Ooh la la…" Jessica muttered, even though Emily could clearly hear her.

"Well, if you already know each other, then that makes this easier. Anyway, back on topic. What I was saying is, we haven't had a story that really caught the audience's attention in ages. We need something new, something fresh. Any ideas?" Ross asked, but, at first, his question recieved no answers.

Then, one of the people in the room raised his hand. "You, McNeil. What do ya got?" Ross asked. "We could talk about food poisoning, and how it affected plenty of students here."

A shocked Emily turned to Jessica, and asked, "Some food got poisoned?" The blonde nodded her head. "I feel a little nauseous, yeah." She joked, as Emily rolled her eyes.

"Maybe. Good suggestion. Anyone else? Come on, people. We need ideas, and we need 'em fast." Ross continued questioning. As people continued listing ideas, only for them to be either rejected or given a 'maybe' by Ross, Emily bit her lip, and thought of what Stacie had told them at the hospital.

"I couldn't see her face… she was wearing a hoodie… she fought like a demon…", Everything that Stacie said was coming back to Emily. Then, without thinking, Emily raised her hand. "I have an idea." She blurted out, once again earning her the attention of everyone around her.

"Really? Well, let's hear it. We need new ideas." Ross remarked. As Emily cleared her throat, she saw that everyone was still staring at her. "Well… I was, uh… I was thinking… I was thinking about something that my friend told me about."

After saying this, Jessica's eyebrows raised. "I… I'm in the Barden Bellas, with Jessica." She explained. "I'm well aware of Ms. Smith being in the Bellas, Ms. Junk." Ross said.

"Okay. Well… as some of you know… a few nights ago, Stacie Conrad, another one of the Bellas, was attacked by three students here. And, when we went to visit her at the hospital, we learned from Stacie that she was saved by what she told us was a girl wearing a hoodie…"

 _Author's Note: Well, that was something, huh? Yeah, if you thought this would be completely different from the original, I decided to keep the dynamic between Beca, Jessica, and Emily. That was my favorite part of the other story, and I want to see it be explored more here, amidst all the supernatural stuff and crime and acapella madness! However, the way I will carry it out is much different from the original. Surprises ahead, folks! To Avery, congratulations for being the first_ _person to review! I'm glad you enjoyed it, and hope you don't mind the swearing. It won't be as frequent as it is in some of my other stories, but it is here. I'm glad you like it overall! I wanted to stay true to what the original film did, and add a unique twist to the characters and storytelling. Also, to everyone who followed and favorited this story, I'm so happy that you did! It encourages me to keep writing! Anywho, thank you all for reading, please leave a review giving me your honest thoughts and ideas on how I can improve my writing, and, as always, take care, and I'll see you next time! Until then, I'm the Flying Hawaiian 001, and I'm going to sleep!_

 _P.S, Ross is based on my film teacher and J. Jonah Jameson from the original Spider-Man trilogy! Speaking of which, if you're reading closely, you'll find a line from one of those movies in this chapter!_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three: _A Little Change_

The sun shone down upon one room on the third floor of Casa Bella. It shined through the window, glimmering across the floor, and on the pale brunette's body.

As she sat, her thumb, middle, and pointer fingers gripped the edge of her chin, stroking her skin. At this very moment, Beca Mitchell sat on her bed, contemplating. Thinking.

" _They know. Chloe, Amy, even the Legacy, they all fucking know. How could I have been so stupid? I knew this would happen. I always knew there was a risk, but… Goddammit…"_ , Beca thought to herself, her stomach sinking.

" _And now, the kid- Christ, why do I keep calling her 'the kid'? She's eighteen, not ten. What's her name again… Emily. Emily is probably gonna write about me. Now, just when I start trying to do the right thing again, my college is probably gonna know about my little friend."_

She sighed, moving her fingers to the bridge of her nose. "Well… who knows? Maybe she won't say anything."

* * *

"So, what you're saying, Emily, is that your friend was rescued by a, quote/unquote, 'badass woman wearing a hoodie', and who somehow managed to fight off most of her attackers without even using her hands?" Ross questioned, to which Emily nodded her head.

Jessica looked, with obvious shock in her face, at Emily. Her eyes were raised, and her curiosity piqued. She wasn't the only one with her eyes on the girl, either. Everyone in the newsroom had their eyes set on Emily, including Ross.

" _Oh, shit. Now, Ross is definitely gonna kick Emily straight to the curb. Poor kid."_ Jessica thought to herself. She then looked at Ross, who placed his right hand over his mouth.

"Hmm… you're onto something, kid. I like your idea. Ms. Junk, meet me in my office after the meeting is adjourned, will you?" Ross politely asked, much to the surprise of Emily, Jessica, and everyone in the room.

Then, almost as quickly as a flash of lighting, Emily nodded her head. "Sure! I'll… I'll… thanks for considering it, Boss!" She enthusiastically said, her head bobbing up and down, and a massive smile on her face.

As the meeting went on, and people came up with ideas, suggesting them to Ross, which both he and Jessica could admit were nowhere near as intriguing as that of Emily's idea, the blonde couldn't help but stare at the younger Bella.

She was shocked, interested, and furious, at the same time. Shocked, for the sheer fact that Emily would even suggest writing about something that Stacie could very well have not even seen, and just imagined.

Interested, because, as much as she didn't want to admit, Jessica wanted to help Stacie, and she did want to call attention to the bastards that tried to flat-out rape someone who she came to consider a friend, a sister, even.

And furious for the fact that Emily had the guts to even suggest the idea in the first place. The kid was bold, that was for sure. Naive, but bold.

* * *

After the meeting was dismissed, Emily followed Ross into his office. He opened the door, and stood out of the way for her. "Go right in." He offered, and she accepted.

Walking in, Emily took notice of just how old-fashioned the room was. In the office, it held various mementos, pictures of what she could only assume were old students who worked with Ross, multiple awards, all awarded by Barden, and plenty of old news articles written for Barden Weekly, either hung up on the wall, or scattered around the room.

As Emily continued admiring the room, Ross took a seat at his desk, spinning ever-so-slightly in his chair as he did so. "Please, have a seat, Emily." The eighteen-year-old did as she was requested, and sat in a seat at the old, brown desk.

"Right. Now… I just want to say, Ms. Junk, that I do like your idea. I really do. And, if I'm correct, I believe you're doing this to help out your friend, am I right?" Ross asked, to which Emily nodded her head as a means of answering 'yes'.

"Good. Good. Now, like I said, I genuinely do like your idea. But, at the same time, I don't know if now is the time to talk about what your friend said. For all we know, it could have just been some brave student who helped her out. But until we have confirmation of who it was, then we'll keep the story on hold. Does that sound okay?"

Emily thought on Ross's question. On the one hand, she knew that what Ross was saying, that it might not be time to publish a story like that, especially considering the content.

On the other… Emily wanted to publish a story about this. Not because she wanted people to see her writing, but because, and this was probably the biggest reason, she didn't want what happened to Stacie to go unnoticed. She wanted people to know. She wanted those vultures to go through the ringer.

But, she listened to Ross, and politely nodded her head. "Okay." She curtly said, frowning somewhat as she did so. The older man took notice. "You know… if you want, I could assign you to take this head-on, when the time comes."

Emily looked up, her eyes wide. "R-really?" She trembled. Ross smiled, and nodded his head. "Really. Now, get out of my office! I'm sure Benji will have something for you to do." He demanded, winking at her.

* * *

As she walked out, Emily closed the door behind her. Then, when she turned around, she saw an irritated Jessica standing before her. "Oh… hi, Jess-", She started, before being pulled into the supply closet by the blonde.

She didn't even have time to react before Jessica opened the closet door, brought her and Emily in, and then closed the door, all in the span of about fifteen seconds. Then…

"What the Hell were you thinking?!" Jessica half-yelled, clearly frustrated. "I'm… I'm sorry. It was the first thing that popped into my mind. I just want to help Stacie." Emily stuttered, honest in her words.

"You could have, and probably should have, talked to me about it, first! Then, we could have gone to Ross. Now, you've blurted it out, and everybody might look at Stacie like she's fucking crazy!" Jessica angrily muttered, much to the shock of Emily.

It was visible on her face, and, once she saw it, Jessica immediately regretted her words. "Oh, jeez. Uh… damn it all to Hell. I'm sorry, Legacy. I just… I'm worried about Stacie, too. And I get that you were trying to do the right thing."

Emily gave a small smile to the older girl. "Thanks. I, uh… I appreciate that." She said, somewhat awkwardly. Though it wasn't the situation that was making her uncomfortable. It was the space level of the supply closet.

"Um, Jessica?" She asked, to which the girl with a hat on her head replied, "Yeah?" Then, Emily sheepishly admitted, "I feel kinda squished. Can we not stay in here for too long? It's kinda claustrophobic."

Jessica smiled. "Sure. Just one question: what did Ross say to you in there?" She questioned. The shorter, younger Bella bit her lip, unsure whether or not to answer truthfully.

"He told me that he didn't think it was the right time to publish a story about it, just yet. But, when he sees the time as right, I'll be the one assigned to it." She chose to answer honestly. Emily wanted the Bellas to trust her. Jessica was a good place to start, it seemed.

The blonde nodded her head. "Alright. Listen, Leg-er, I mean, Emily, tell me when he does assign you to this. I want to be filled in. Okay?" She demanded, to which Emily held her hand up. "I solemnly swear to fill you, a girl I barely know, in on this weird case."

Jessica rolled her eyes, but accepted Emily's answer. "Good." Then, her phone buzzed loudly in her pocket. She pulled it out, and sighed when she saw the text. "Yikes… we gotta get to Casa Bella, now. Chloe just called us in for a meeting."

Emily nodded in understanding. "Okay. Let's get going, and get the Hell out of this supply closet."

* * *

Outside of the Dean's Office, the Barden Bellas, outside of their Captains, Beca Mitchell and Chloe Beale, and, obviously, Jessica and Emily, observed the sight where their friend had been attacked.

Everyone was silent. No one could say anything to make themselves, or each other, feel better. According to the police, who came to Casa Bella after the attack, they left the scene mostly untouched.

There was still blood on the ground, and chalk had been etched around where the bodies were laying. From what they could all see, their bodies were limp, sprawled over the floor, and, if the blood was any indication, they got what was coming to them.

"Jesus, guys. I… I kinda feel uncomfortable looking at this." Ashley Williams said, gulping a little at the sight. It made her frightened, the simple thought of what would have happened had somebody, whether or not it was the person Stacie said it was, had showed up and fought the boys off.

Hell, it scared her just thinking what it would have been like had it been Beca, or Chloe, or Cynthia-Rose, or Jessica, even her.

"I'm with Ash on this one. This is kind of fucked up, guys." Amy said, a lump in her voice. Then, Cynthia-Rose looked at the two girls, and asked, "Then what the Hell are we all doing here? Whose dumb idea was this, anyway?"

They all looked at each other, pondering their friend's question. Then, just as Flo, one of their newer members, opened her mouth, she was interrupted by a familiar voice. "What the Hell are you guys doing here?" Jessica asked, Emily in tow, turning all of the Bellas' heads.

"We were just… uh…", Ashley stuttered, failing to formulate a reasoning, even in the presence of her best friend. "We came to see where Stacie got attacked." Flo answered, in the most honest way possible.

Jessica pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes and shaking her head. " _Am I the only one who thinks we should wait before we just jump into these kinds of things, or at least decide to do it as a group? I hope to God not."_

She sighed, removing her fingers from her face, and opening her eyes. "Fine. If anything, it's lucky that we found you guys. Chloe called a meeting, and wants all of us there."

Lily, a quiet Asian girl born with 'gills like a fish', checked her phone. Her eyes widened when she saw that Chloe had in fact texted them, and nobody noticed.

Soon, everyone else was checking their phones, and seeing Chloe's message. "Come on, guys. Let's get moving." CR commanded, as she, Jessica, and Emily started walking away. With that, the others followed suit.

* * *

At Casa Bella, the girls all sat in the living room. Chloe paced the room, waiting for Beca to come from her room. Amy, Flo, and Lily, scrunched up on the couch, awaiting the arrival of the brunette as well. Cynthia-Rose sat cross-legged on the floor, her hand over her mouth. Jessica and Ashley sat next to one another, same as always. And Emily sat in the chair in the corner, typing away at her computer.

Finally, after five minutes of waiting, Beca came down. The pale girl looked lost, as if she had been deep in thought for quite some time, only to be interrupted, distracted.

"Sorry. I… I was distracted. It won't happen, again." She promised, even though she knew that, with what she planned on doing in the coming weeks, she'd be more than distracted enough.

Chloe sighed, breathing heavily as she did so. "It's fine. Just take a seat, Becs." She said, and Beca did so.

Then, for a few moments, there was silence. No one spoke. It was completely devoid of talk in the living room of Casa Bella. Then, Amy spoke up. "So… why'd you call us in, Captain?" She asked.

"I called all of us together because we need to acknowledge what Stacie said. And… honestly, I've been up at night thinking about it, myself. I need to know what you guys think. So… who wants to start?"

At first, nobody did. Then, that all changed when Emily, still sitting in the corner, yet taking a break from her writing, raised her hand. "Okay. Legacy, what do you got for me?"

Emily, in a small voice, said, "Well… I've been thinking a lot about it, myself. And… I've been wondering if it's true." She turned heads with that last sentiment. Everyone around her looked at her, especially Beca and Jessica, who both stared with shock.

"I… I mean, what if it is true? What if some girl wearing a hoodie just jumped out of nowhere, and saved Stacie? What if she really did hurt those guys without even touching them?" The newest Bella questioned.

"Yet that's the key problem with your questions, Legacy. 'What-if'. What if Stacie didn't see things clearly? What if she was wrong? What if somebody did save her, but not in the way she said? I mean, come on, guys. A woman in a grey hoodie saving her by not even touching those pigs? How realistic does that sound?" Jessica attempted to reason with them all, to which most of the girls nodded their head in agreement.

"Jess is right. It could have just been someone who fought 'em off. I don't think that what Stacie said happened really did happen, no matter how much I'd like to believe it." Beca lied straight through her teeth. She knew what really happened, but was determined as possible to make sure no one knew the truth.

" _Never let anyone know who you really are, or what you can really do. They'll never understand. How could they? To them, you'd be nothing more than a freak. Nothing more, nothing less. That's why they can never know."_

Beca sighed, choosing to hold onto this false perception of her as a person. But the conversation was far from over.

"Well, if I can add my two cents in, I don't entirely think it's impossible that someone helped Stacie. Whoever they are, we're indebted to them for it. It's the part where Stacie describes her that I'm at a loss for words or logical thought." Chloe added in.

"Yeah, guys. I'm with Chloe on this one. It could be true or it couldn't be true. But, whatever happened happened, and we owe this person, whover the Hell it is, for saving our Stacie." Amy said, garnering her agreement from most of the party.

Emily shook her head, unsatisfied. "I don't know. All I know is that someone is out there, someone who damn well could be watching us, protecting us and others out there."

Jessica rolled her eyes. "Get a grip, Legacy. This isn't a Marvel movie, where Captain America jumps into action and kicks ass with his shield, or Iron Man flies into a war zone to stop a bunch of terrorists. This. Is. Reality. And this person, whoever the Hell she may be, is not a damn superhero, and they are not watching us, right here, right now, while we sit on our asses." She bluntly stated, agitated by the younger girl.

Emily was surprised by the sheer bluntness of what Jessica just said. "What the Hell happened to the person who told me that she wanted to help me out the second we got some clues as to who was Stacie's little 'guardian angel'? You remember that, Jessica?"

As the stares and glares between the girls went on, Beca could start feel the heat in the room. It slowly, but surely, intensified, leaving everyone feeling a sense of dread and anxiousness. She decided that it was time to stop keeping quiet, and time to start taking action.

"Look, guys, no matter what happened, Stacie is still alive, and somebody, a guy, a girl, it doesn't matter who at this point, saved our friend. Isn't that what matters?" She questioned, looking to every single one of them for some sense of agreement.

Then, Cynthia-Rose nodded her head. "Stacie's safe, and that's what's important, right now. We'll worry about who it was that saved her, later. Right now, we just need to keep focus."

But while the girls nodded in agreement, Beca and Emily did their best to hide their true feelings, only both girls felt feelings that were quite different to each other's. With Beca, she felt a feeling of relief, if only for the fact that she no longer needed to talk about the subject, at least for now.

But with Emily, there was a dissatisfaction inside. A feeling of not doing what she found necessary. But, at the end of the day, what could she do? Nothing. At least not until Ross, or someone, had her take this head-on. " _When the time comes, I'll be ready."_

* * *

After the conversation was finished with, Beca found herself once again sitting in her dark, dimly lit room. There were no candles, the lights were switched off, and the only source of light in the room was a lamp.

She sat on the floor, listening to music on her Walkman. Ever since her Aunt got it for her for Christmas when she was sixteen, Beca listened to mixtapes whenever she had the time. It calmed her down, relieved her of her stress in hard situations, and often made her feel better.

 _And if you don't love me now_

 _You will never love me again._

 _I can still hear you saying_

 _You will never break the chain._

She sighed, slowly bobbing her head to the beat of the music, which softly played in her ears via the headphones that came with the Walkman. "Nothing like a little Fleetwood Mac to soothe this soul."

Then, just as a new verse started, she could hear her phone beginning to buzz. She pressed the 'pause' button on the Walkman, immediately stopping the song. Then, Beca quickly grabbed her phone, and answered it without even checking to see who was calling.

"Hello?" She asked. "Before you say anything, consider what I am about to ask you for a few moments. When I heard about one of the Bellas being attacked and nearly raped by some seniors, I was obviously concerned. However, what scared me most was what the police told me they heard her say: that a girl in a hoodie took them out, some of them without even using her hands. Now, answer me this: were you, or were you not, the one that poor girl was talking about?" The all-too familiar, deep voice of Brian Mitchell questioned.

Beca breathed in heavily. She didn't want to have this conversation. But, here they were. "Dad… yes, it was me." She said truthfully, to which her Father sighed. "Beca, we talked about this. I thought we talked about this. I thought…"

He paused, much to Beca's surprise. "Dad, we did talk about this. At the end of high school. And yes, it was dangerous then, because I couldn't control myself as well as I could. I was inexperienced, I didn't know what I wanted to do. But now, I do. I can. And I am ready."

She could hear Brian's heavy breathing over the phone. "Beca… you have no idea what you can truly do. What you've done so far, using your mind, your strength, your agility… it isn't everything. There's so much more." He explained.

"Well, if there's so much that I can fucking do, why don't you give me a general idea of what I can do? Hmm?" She bitterly demanded, frustrated not by her Father, but by the circumstances.

"Look, Beca… I don't know it all, and I certainly don't control you. You are your own person, and I need to realize that. But, at the same time… just please, PLEASE, be careful. Think through this. Decide if it's what you really want to do. Just consider it."

Beca took in what he was saying. She knew that he had a point. Maybe she was jumping into it. Maybe she didn't know the full extent of her powers. Maybe she wasn't as in control as she thought. But that was for her to figure out.

"Look, Dad… I'll consider all my options. If that's what you want, then I will." She promised. "Good. That's all that I could ever want from you, at least now, under these circumstances. And, I just want you to know that, no matter what, I'll support your choice."

And, with that, Brian hung up, leaving Beca alone in her room once more. She didn't need to think over her decision, because her mind had already been made up for her the night that her friend nearly got raped. She would help those in need, and operate in the shadows, only in daylight if necessary. "A little change never hurt anybody…"

 _Author's Note: And now, we have people becoming more and more susceptible to Beca's little friend. The next chapter will be_ _much more action heavy, and will also balance out more scenes with Jessica and Emily, as they get to know each other more, while Beca sticks to that sentiment of how 'a little change never hurt anybody'. To all those who followed and favorited this story, thank you so much! You guys are the reason I keep churning out new content, and constantly thinking of more weird stories to tell you! Also, special shoutout to ZRyder, who is a frequent reviewer on The Guy In The All-Girl Acapella Group, thanks for following the story! Anywho, thank you all for reading! Please leave a review expressing your concerns and/or comments on the story, telling me how I can better my writing. And, as always, take care, and I'll see you next time! Until then, I'm the Flying Hawaiian 001, and I'm gonna lay down in bed!_


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: _The Trigger Effect_

Two weeks went by, and we had no luck in getting anywhere close to finding out who this 'mystery savior was'. We did some digging, sure, but most of the time, we just wrote about random events going on at Barden.

While working for Barden Weekly, I got to know more about Jessica and Benji. Turns out, Benji really is a nice guy. Respectful, kind, and more than willing to help do his fair share of helping me find stories.

And even Jessica, despite her previous reservations towards me, actually seemed like a nice person. She's just really committed to her job. In fact, I'd say she's almost too committed, even calling in absent for Bellas practice.

Speaking of which, I like all of the girls in this group. They're all good people. I like Chloe, even if she does seem a little neurotic. Amy is fun to be around, but can be a little irritating. CR is friendly enough, though maybe a little too friendly at times. I haven't had much of an opportunity to get to know Stacie yet. Flo and Lily are admittedly strange, but nice enough. And all I really know about Ashley so far is that she and Jessica are in a relationship.

But I must admit, none of them are quite as interesting as Beca Mitchell. There is something undeniably off-putting about her. It's not the way she dresses, or the way she talks, or even the way she acts. But it's just… something about her piqued my curiosity.

Whatever it was, there was a part of me that wanted to know more about her. It desired to know more about her.

* * *

Jessica sat at her desk. A cup of coffee was placed neatly on a coaster, but just far away enough for it to not spill on her computer. Her fingers rammed away at the keyboard.

She had been searching the internet for hours, trying to find as many articles as she could about their little 'mystery vigilante'. But all that she could find were a series of articles dating back to 2012, and almost all of them were the same story.

The same story being that an unknown and unidentified figure who could only be described by possible victims as a violent, almost merciless vigilante wearing a hood, and speaking with a deep, guttural voice.

The blonde, wearing her hat and reading glasses, grabbed the coffee mug, and sipped from it. " _All of these articles are the same. Just somebody in Chicago who used to take on some folks who were stupid enough to either rob a store, or cruel enough to try to rape people."_

After setting the mug down, Jessica clenched her fists, and pressed them to her face. "Shit… what if… what if this is the same person? What if all evidence, that we know of, points to this… 'vigilante' being our little savior?"

As she contemplated the possibility of a connection, Benji and Emily walked in. "Hey, Jess! We're back!" The younger girl announced. "Lovely. Did you get any story ideas?" Jessica asked in a monotonous deadpan.

"Well… no. We had some, but none of them were very good. Try this: Bumper Allen, former Trebles leader, returns! Only no one gives a shit that he's back." Benji joked, to which Emily laughed.

"What about you? You find anything?" Emily asked. Jessica's eyebrows widened behind her glasses. She had no idea whether she wanted to be truthful with the new Bella, or simply lie to her, and tell her that she hadn't been searching for leads behind her back.

"Not a thing. There's nothing interesting or SFW that we could print at the moment." The older Bella sighed. Then, her phone began buzzing in her back pocket.

Jessica took the phone out of the pocket, slid the answer key, and answered. "Hello? Yeah, I know I said… look, I'm sorry, Ash, but I can't make it back now! I've got a ton of crap to deal with… look, I get that, but… ugh. Yeah, we'll talk about it, later. I love you, too. Okay. Bye." And with that, she hung up.

She turned her chair around, and found Emily and Benji attempting not to make it clear to her that they heard the conversation. "You can stop pretending. I know you heard that. And you both don't need to talk about that with anyone. Got it?" They nodded their heads, getting the memo.

Then, Ross stepped out of his office, an expression on his face that sent all kinds of signals. Excitement, frustration, intrigue, and more. But one thing was for certain: there was a story.

"Are you three all that I have at the moment?" He questioned. They nodded their heads in unison, as the old newsman sighed. "Well, you wanted an interesting story, right? Well, reports are coming in from a warehouse in West Atlanta, a little way out from the city. Something about a wrecked warehouse."

The three didn't even need to think twice. "We're on it. Benj, get the truck ready. Emily, grab a camera and a notepad. I want us out of here in five minutes. Got it?" Jessica demanded. Benji saluted her in response, and Emily replied with a blunt "I'm on it." Then, the two of them were off to do what they were told to do.

All the while, Jessica bit her lip. " _Maybe this could be the big break we've been waiting for… Let's find out."_

* * *

Trucks surrounded the place. News crews, paramedics, detectives, and cops stood both outside and inside, with those who were investigating on the inside, observing the area and searching for evidence as to what on God's Earth could have happened in there.

The inside of the warehouse was a wreck. Across the floor, eighteen bodies lay, their bones broken, their teeth shattered, and blood pouring from their noses and mouths.

At the same time, six small children, none of them related to one another, sat still, as they were observed by doctors for injuries. No one knew why they were there, or what reason the men laying down on the ground had for having them there. All that mattered, in that moment, was that they were safe and, from the looks of it, unharmed.

As four more cars pulled up outside of the place, a skinny, tall man with brown hair smokes his cigarette as he sat in the passenger seat of one of them. He knew his wife had told him not to, but, at the same time, the stuff was so damn addicting, he didn't know how to stop.

The man was 58, just barely pushing 60. His coat was draped over his body, and his one free hand, the one devoid of a cigarette, was tucked nicely into his pocket.

A tag on the breast pocket of his coat read 'Lieutenant David Collins'. It was his given name, after all. And, as the vehicle pulled up to the building, nearly coming to a complete stop, he pulled the cigarette from between his teeth.

Shaking his head, and letting the smoke escape from his mouth, Collins and the other officer, a rookie by the name of Weigand, got out of the car.

Had this been two weeks earlier, Collins would have already known what would happen. He'd be unsurprised by whatever awaited him inside the warehouse, while everyone else would be making a big deal about it. It had happened countless times before, and would happen again.

Only the past two weeks had offered him something he hadn't seen before. Behind the doors of these hideouts would be men with their bones somehow broken by God-knows-what, their guns shattered into pieces, and anything that they were working on destroyed. Collins didn't count on that.

What he especially didn't count on was a van pulling up at that moment. Collins first noticed it when they drove along the road, but paid no attention to it. Now, as the lights beamed upon him, and pulled in closer and closer to his body, it became impossible to ignore.

He and Weigand, who quickly drew his weapon from its holster, turned to see the lights. And, eventually, the van which they belonged to pulled to a complete stop. And out came three individuals: a young man, a blonde young woman, and a younger-looking brunette girl.

"What the Hell are you kids doing here? This is a crime scene, not a club." Weigand brashly questioned, slowly putting his gun back in his holster.

The blonde raised her arms up. "Easy, officers. We're not trying to cause any trouble." She explained, observing that the scene had just gotten tense.

"We're just here on assignment. We're… uh… we're reporters, in a way. We're with Barden Weekly, it's a campus paper at-", The boy began, only for Collins to interrupt by putting his right hand up, as if to indicate to him 'stop talking'.

"I know where Barden is. I have a nephew who goes there. And I know Nathan. My question is this: if you go in there, will you at least stick close to Officer Weigand and I at all times, even if you are asking questions?" Collins cautiously asked.

The blonde bit her lip, almost hesitant about the aging officer's demands. But, nevertheless, she nodded her head in accordance with his wishes.

"Good. But before we go in, I need your names. All of them." Collins demanded. "Um… Jessica Smith, Sargeant. The two with me are Benjamin Applebaum and Emily Junk." Jessica explained.

Then, the wizened cop bobbed his head, and turned to walk through the door. "Well, then. If you're ready to see some heavy shit, come right along."

* * *

What was inside the warehouse was nothing short of astonishing to the three newsfolk. All were surprised by what they found, but none were as shocked as Emily.

She couldn't begin to imagine what horrors had occurred before she, Jessica, and Benji came. It was a complete theater of chaos. Across multiple tables, there were surgical supplies, namely rib-spreaders and scalpels.

Emily shook her head at the tools, refusing to think of what the people in the warehouse had planned to use them for. Or who they were going to use them on.

She looked at Benji and Jessica, and could see that, judging by the looks on their faces, they were just as disturbed as she.

The nightmarish imagery only got more disturbing, as they walked through the destroyed establishment. Corridor upon corridor, they observed multiple broken cans of chemicals. Chemicals of all kinds, both legal and illegal.

Emily tried, and failed, to ignore it. She just couldn't. No matter how much she tried, and no matter how much she wanted to, she simply couldn't.

But what took all three completely off guard was the space in the middle of the warehouse. A space where multiple men were lifted off of their broken legs, and placed on beds in ambulances, and six small children, all no older than seven years old, being examined by doctors and nurses alike.

The dark-haired girl couldn't help but wince at the sight of these children, these young, innocent children, being checked for signs of harm. She bit her lip, making an effort not to tear up at the miserable, sullen expressions on their faces.

Benji saw her uncomfortability, and gripped her hand. Emily looked at him, the tears all-too visible in the tips of her eyelids. "I'm so sorry…" He muttered, grimacing at the ground.

As tears slid down her face, Emily loosened her face, and stood. Determined. Confident. She took her hand out of Benji's hand, as gently as she could, and walked in the direction of the children.

Jessica stopped pacing, and turned to look at the raven-haired girl, her mouth hanging wide-open. "What does she…?" She questioned, looking with disbelief at the girl.

Emily ignored Jessica's protests, and stood beside the children. One by one, they all looked at her with a different expression on their face. "Hi. I'm… I'm Emily."

At first, the children were unsure of what to do, or even say. All of them remained silent. Emily understood this. " _Why wouldn't they want to remain silent? They've probably been through Hell, or worse. Jesus, I don't want to think about what could possibly be worse…"_

Exhaling, the teen said, "Okay. I get it. I get that you guys might be scared. And that's okay. You have every right to be. But I'm with my friends over there, see them? That's Jessica, and that's Benji." She pointed at the two behind her, still staring with disbelief.

"And we wanted to ask you guys a few questions. We just want to know what happened. You don't have to tell us if you don't want to. I know that this must be really scary… but if any of you want to share, please tell me."

All of a sudden, everyone's eyes were on Emily. All of them were looking at her. Jessica, Benji, Sargeant Collins, the officers with him, the kids, even a few of the doctors treating the children.

Yet, no one could think of anything to say. No one knew what to say. Emily frowned, feeling guilty for asking these children, these innocent kids, to tell her what they had been exposed to. It made her feel sick to her stomach.

"We've been here for a week." A small voice piped up. Suddenly, Emily looked up, surprised that someone had spoken. "Who said that?" She questioned, to which a young girl with short, brunette locks slowly raised her hand.

"They… they took me when I was with my Mommy and Daddy at the park. They took me in their truck, and brought me here." The little girl continued, in a small but clear voice, as Emily moved closer to her.

"They took you. They took you, and brought you here? Were these other kids here when you got here?" Emily kindly asked, to which the little girl shook her head. "No… not all of them. Three of them were here before me. And two others were brought in on the same day as me."

Emily was horrified. Beyond horrified. She was at a complete loss for words. " _They took these kids. They just snatched them up, like it was nothing. These fucking savages…"_

Jessica slowly walked over, and Benji followed suit. "Did… did they do anything to you? To any of you? Did they hurt you? At all?" Emily questioned once more, with all of the children shaking their heads.

"No. But they measured us. Took our weight, height. Made us stand on scales. I heard one of them say they were going to run a few tests on us…" The little girl quivered, as she closed her eyes.

Tears, soft, small tears, like raindrops at a funeral, rolled down her face. She was tired, exhausted. And Emily? Emily found herself in tears, as well. Wet, big tears rolled down her cheeks. She breathed heavily as she looked at the girl.

"I just… I just want my Mommy. I want my Mommy and my Daddy." The little girl wailed, as she suddenly forced her small body onto Emily's, sobbing.

Emily, being the person she was, wrapped her arms around the poor girl, closing her eyes as she did so. For a few moments, that was all that mattered. This little girl in her arms was the only thing on her mind. The only thing she could think about.

"... And I want my guardian angel to always be here to protect us…"

Emily's tearful eyes shot wide open. She moved her head upward to look at the little girl. "What? What… what did you just say?"

"My… _our_ guardian angel. She was the one who saved us. All of us. If she wasn't here… they would have hurt us." The little girl explained. Her mouth agape, Emily looked at the other children, as they all nodded in assent.

Removing her arms from the little girl, Emily asked, to all of the children, "Who exactly is your guardian angel?"

* * *

"LET ME GO! LET ME GO!" The child screeched, as two very big and armored men, with big guns attached to their hips, dragged her by the arms to the operation room.

"Stop squirming, kid. You're only gonna make this worse!" One of the two men commanded, but the child wouldn't listen. She strained and tried to break free of their grasp, but found herself unable to do so.

Not knowing what else to do in the moment, the girl bit into the man to her left on the arm. She bit as hard and as long as she could, while the man briefly screamed, then grunted as the two continued to drag her to the operation room.

Before the kid knew it, they were in a brightly lit, white room with an operating table right in the center, and multiple machines surrounding said table, with a few medical supplies scattered throughout.

It was a mad surgeon's dream, and his patient's nightmare. Syringes, rubber tubing, pliers, anesthesia, and more all made their appearance, like the extras in a Broadway play. It looked like a torture chamber. It was a torture chamber. And everyone in the room knew this.

Walking up to the table, the two men dragged the little girl over, and put her body onto it, one strapping her in while the other held her down. She kicked and screamed, but nothing stopped. She was still there, still on that table, being prepped for God-knows-what.

As soon as she was completely strapped in, she looked around the room once more. Her breathing was heavy, and her heart racing. "What is this? What are you going to do to me?"

At that moment, a man dressed in a doctor's uniform emerged from the shadows of a corner in the right-hand side of the room. A false, disturbing grin was plastered to his face as he soon found himself standing directly next to the girl.

"This is a historic day, little girl. Today, you will be the first of many to receive our… special treatment. From this day forward, you will no longer be just a normal child. You, my dear, will be a weapon. A soldier. There will be no more fun and games, no more cookies and milk, or Mommy and Daddy tucking you into bed and reading you a story. That is over… and now, it's time to join the war."

The doctor darkly laughed, but the girl noticed that it was not a hearty life, like that of her kind Father. It was cold, cruel, dead. Evil. And it frightened her to the core.

She kicked and grunted. She didn't want to be there. She was certain that nobody, none of the other children, wanted to be there. "Now, now, young lady! It's not polite to squirm at the doctor's office!" The doctor darkly joked, as he grabbed a pointy, sharp syringe from a platter, and the two mooks sadistically laughed.

Then, he slowly, menacingly walked over to the straining girl. "My dearest child… there is no escape from this. You can kick and scream all you want, but the fact of the matter is that your childhood, your life as you know it is over. Now, you will comply with everything we demand of you and do exactly as we say, or there will be-"

The speech was interrupted by a loud, shrill scream. A male voice. One of their own. "What was that?" One of the mooks asked. "Well, don't just stand there! The both of you, get out and see what's going on! Don't come back until you've dealt with it! I'll be busy with the serum and the brat, anyhow." The doctor demanded.

With a nod of their heads, the two men raised their weapons, and tiptoed out of the room, as the doctor proceeded to fill the syringe with a liquid from a container.

* * *

The two men crept down the hall, their weapons cocked and drawn, towards the location of where they heard the scream coming from. Both were nervous, but neither could show it through the expressionless, dark masks that they wore on their faces.

As soon as they walked over to the location, they realized they could barely see anything. The hallway was darkly lit, with only a light hanging overhead to show them anything.

And all that they could see, just by the light, was a gun. An emptied assault rifle, laying on the floor. "What the fuck?" One of them asked, as the other slowly moved towards the weapon, bending down to grab it.

As he brought it up to his face, the mook examined it, and took notice of multiple details. The bullets had been emptied, and the clip within it was nowhere to be found.

The other mook walked over, and looked at the gun in his partner's hand. "What in the Hell is going-"

He was interrupted by his head slamming smack dab into the other's. As if on cue, both fell to the ground in a slump. As one of them groaned, a hooded figure kicked him in the face, knocking him completely unconscious.

"Hey, what the Hell was that?" Another voice yelled, his footsteps growing louder. He was approaching. Thinking quickly, the figure backed into the dark hall, her body completely obscured by pitch black nothingness.

The mook stumbled into the hall, and saw his friends, all scattered on the floor. He ran over to their mangled bodies. "Oh, shit!" He exclaimed, as he pulled out his radio.

"Code red! I think there might be an intruder in-" He began, before becoming unable to finish the sentence, for he was lifted off the ground, and into the air.

Unable to move, or do anything, he screamed, before being thrown onto the ground. He groaned, slowly slipping into unconsciousness. But before he did, the last thing he saw was a short figure with a hood draped over his or her head.

* * *

The doctor grew increasingly worried. He had heard the screams, and he was beginning to feel a sinking feeling in the bottom of his stomach. He was nervous, stressed. " _Keep it together… you're in here… nothing can get to you. Nothing."_

Just to be safe rather than sorry, he paced over to the door, and sealed it. He tapped a four-number code into a digital computer keyboard, locking it down completely.

He was panting, sweating. His nerves were completely wracked. And he wasn't sure what to do at the moment.

Then, he remembered something. Something, or someone, very important: the girl. The man turned his head, looking at the child with malice in his eyes, and a grin on his face.

"Ah, yes! How could I forget about you, my dear? You are the most important piece to this puzzle!" He exclaimed, grabbing the now-filled syringe with a sense of urgency.

"Please… please, don't hurt me." The young girl pleaded. The doctor faked a hurt expression on his face, and clutched his heart in his hand.

"Hurt you? Why, my sweet child, why would I hurt you?" He asked, a fake, sickening sweetness in his voice. "Because… you're a… a bad man." She stuttered.

"Me? A bad man? Oh, no. I am not a bad man. I am nothing more than a doctor. A doctor under orders to turn the brats and whiners of this world into what we really need them for: soldiers. You will be the start of a new generation. A new stage of evolution. And in due time, you will be thankful."

He laughed. That cold, dark, evil laugh. It sent a chill down the child's spine, as he walked over, the syringe shaking in his twitching hand. The girl closed her eyes. She knew that there was no escape. No possible way for her to get out.

" _Mommy… Mommy, please save me."_

As if on cue, the sealed-shut door began to crack. From the other side, something, or someone, was ramming into it. The doctor swiftly turned on his heels, his eyes widening as the door came undone.

The little girl, with her eyes still squinting, slightly opened them to see what on Earth was doing this. And all that she saw was the doctor grabbing an AK-47 from the ground, cocking it as the door was nearly through.

Finally, it opened. And in walked the figure. Suddenly, the girl opened her eyes fully, as the doctor starred in horror at the person with a hood on. "Get away from us! GET AWAY!" He screamed, clicking the trigger, and firing off twenty rounds in ten seconds. Two bullets for each second.

And yet… the figure was unfazed. The bullets bounced off her chest like nothing had happened. Both the doctor and the little girl watched as she came closer, the formerly disturbed man now shivering, and the gun no longer producing bullets.

He clicked on the trigger, but nothing came of it. "Oh, Goddammit…" He muttered, a terrified expression on his face. Then, the woman ripped the empty weapon from his hands, and using her own two hands, broke it in half over her knee.

The doctor backed into the corner he had been so intent on staying in earlier, sinking to the floor in fear. "Hmmph. Look at you, Doctor Wells. The second I'm in the room, you turn back into the weasel that you are."

The doctor was trembling. His eyes were raised as he looked up at the hooded female, confirmed by her deep, gravelly voice, with an obvious fear. "You… you're… you're…"

"Alive? Yes. And as you can see, I'm a lot better than the last time we met. You, on the other hand… you are about to enter a world of pain."

* * *

The child paused paused, biting her lip momentarily. Emily took notice, and sympathetically put a hand on her shoulder. "It's okay. You don't have to finish this if you don't want to."

Automatically, the young girl looked up at her, a look of frightened determination on her face. "No! I can't stop… I need to tell you everything. You need to know." She exclaimed, taking Emily completely by surprise. Unsure as to how she should react, she looked back at Jessica, who sullenly nodded her head. She looked at Benji, who was clearly trying to hold back tears as he listened in horror.

Looking back at the child, Emily exhaled. "Okay. Tell me what happened next. Tell me everything."

* * *

With a motion so quick the little girl could barely see it with her own eyes, the woman grabbed the doctor's hands. But before she could do anything, she turned her head to face the child, and said, "Sweetie… look away."

Without hesitation, the girl closed her eyes. But it did her no good, as she could still hear the doctor's horrible, blood-curdling scream of pain, as well as the sound of multiple blows to his body.

Her eyes may have been closed, but her reaction to the sound was no different. She cringed, as anyone would have, at the sound of bones breaking, the Doctor's horrible grunting, and worst of all, the woman's panting.

She was breathing heavily. Her heart raced, like a chariot in a gladiator match. She took no enjoyment out of breaking his bones, one by one, or further bloodying his face. But at the same time, she felt some satisfaction with herself. With what she was doing.

At the same time, she felt that she was doing the right thing. Or maybe it wasn't the right thing. Maybe what she was doing was evil. Or a necessary evil, perhaps.

All at once, there were so many things running through her mind. Things she couldn't possibly fathom to think about, to contemplate, or to come to a conclusion to about, all at the same time.

Time… time… it seemed as if, as her grasp on the doctor's body grew tighter, as the little girl opened her eyes, as if to catch a glimpse of the body horror show in front of her, time itself slowed down.

"Don't you think it's time to end this?" A voice growled out from behind her. Beca's eyes widened, as she quickly spun around. The powerful clutch she had on her enemy's body had disappeared.

For a moment, in the split second that she had turned to look at the figure speaking to her, Beca's mouth opened, as if to speak. But instead, her expression was replaced with a sullen, but determined, look.

"Never. I made my choice. I'm not going back." Beca calmly reminded herself, as she turned to face the doctor once more. "You also swore off exposing yourself to the world, and look where it's got you now. So, what's the point of this if you're not going to just come out of the shadows?" The person reprimanded, her fists clenched.

This figure looked like Beca. Sometimes, Beca herself was convinced that the person only she could see was her. The real her. She looked like her. She dressed like her. But she was not her. This figure was plain, dark, completely devoid of color. Cold, distant. Her voice was low in pitch, but just as fiery in impact.

Beca shook her head in protest. "I know what I'm doing." "Do you? Or are you just saying that to get me out of our head?" The figure questioned.

"I already told you. I've got this." Beca hissed at the blue phantom. "Well, if we listen to you, then we wait until one night, you can't take it anymore. Maybe somebody finally gets their hands on our 'kryptonite'. You die, and what happens then?"

Beca bit her lip. She knew that what the thing was saying had merit to it. There was no denying that. But at the same time, she didn't want to focus on the future. All that mattered was the now.

And right now, there was a brutally beaten man in a lab coat begging for his life while on his knees, and an innocent little girl strapped to a medical table, being forced to watch and listen. That was the now. And it scared Beca in ways she didn't want to admit.

"People have tried to kill me before. It didn't work then, and it won't work now. And whatever it was that could kill me was destroyed already." The vigilante bitterly remarked, gritting her teeth.

Her mind wandered further. Back to the past. A harsher time. A darker period. One where, for her, hope seemed like a thing only of the imagination. She thought of everything. The hospital. The experiments. The doctors. The fire...

Sighing, the masked brunette closed her eyes, looking away from the creature that resembled her. "At this point in time, everything they could throw at me is worthless. Bullets… knives… everything."

The figure was not pleased. If anything, the anger in her eyes was showing more and more with every word Beca said.

"What if you're wrong? What if the only thing that can kill you is still out there? What if these are the same people as before? What if you can't stop them this time? HOW MUCH LONGER DO YOU THINK YOU CAN STAY ALIVE?" She questioned, her fury becoming uncontainable.

Beca had heard more than enough. "Quiet, or I'll-", She began, before the figure towered over her, her fists raised. "NO! I WON'T SIT AND WATCH WHILE YOU SLOWLY DESTROY OUR LIFE!" The figure yelled. With every word that was screamed, Beca could feel a hair on her right arm standing up.

And all she could do, or say, was, "What… do you want from me?"

Suddenly, the figure had reverted to a calmer stasis. Her eyes grew tired, and her arms slumped to her sides. "I don't want to watch us die. To see you slowly killing us. Aren't you afraid? How could you not be? How do you not realize what this could do? Don't you think it's time to stop?"

Beca gulped. Her heart beat rapidly as sweat drenched her forehead, rolling down her cheek and unto her chin. She didn't want to admit it, but the figure was right. She was terrified. Even with the powers she had, and the hope that her 'kryptonite' was completely eradicated, she always feared that one night, the worst would come. And she would be no more.

"Think about Dad. Think about Jesse. Think about the Bellas. Think about Emily, Amy, Lily, Stacie, CR, Jessica, Ashley, Flo. Think about… think about Chloe. How they'd take it if they lost us for good. You wouldn't want that, would you? You don't have to keep fighting…"

For a few moments, Beca stayed completely frozen. She was lost in thought, and at a complete loss for words. It was as if the world had stopped spinning completely, and time was gone.

And then, as if at the snap of a finger, the world began to spin again. It started slow, but sure enough, time returned to its natural pace. The figure had disappeared, and once more, Beca found herself gripping the pleading doctor.

He was a pathetic worm in her arms. Groaning, tears slowly falling down his face. "I'm… I'm sorry… p-please, don't hurt me… please…"

Briefly, Beca took pity upon the doctor. Though the expression on her face didn't say it, she almost felt sorry for the snivelling weasel that was preparing to torture a child.

The child.

Her eyes widened, Beca looked at the little girl. She was trembling from head to toe. " _Oh, my God… I can't kill him. Not in front of the girl. I gotta get the poor kid outta here."_

Turning her attention to Doctor Wells once more, she whispered, in a low, dark hiss, "You're alive because of her." And then, she landed a powerful punch to his face, knocking out several teeth, as Wells' unconscious body fell to the floor.

She was panting. Through heavy breaths, she looked up at the little girl. "It's okay to open your eyes." She murmured, as the child slowly opened her eyelids.

In the kid's eyes, Beca could see the terror inside. The shock at the darkly dressed person who stood before her. She was scared, and understandably so. "He… he was going to hurt me. He said he would. I… I'm scared."

Beca walked over to the table. "I know, kid. I know." As she reached out to break the girl from her bonds, the child flinched. "Wait!" She exclaimed, her voice displaying a fear Beca herself was all too familiar with.

"What is it?" She calmly asked. Beca knew that, in cases like this, raising your voice or being impatient with a kid was dangerous. "I'm still scared." The little girl admitted.

It took a moment for her to realize what the kid was afraid of, but as soon as she did, everything clicked. Slowly, the young woman put her hand to her chest. "Of… of me?" Beca stuttered, to which the little girl nodded.

"It's your mask. It makes me scared." The child said. In response, Beca sighed. In her mind, the mantra she had set up for herself took precedent.

" _Never let anyone know…",_ She didn't want to do what she knew would ease the child, but at the same time, she knew it was the right thing to do.

* * *

"Did you get a good look at your… your guardian angel's face?" Emily questioned. Erica looked at the ground, taking a moment to truly consider her next words.

Then, just as quickly as she had stayed silent, she looked up, and bluntly answered, "No."

* * *

Beca pulled down the black hood over her head, and slowly removed the gray mask that covered every part of her face above her mouth.

The little girl's eyes grew bigger as the realization sunk into her. "You're… you're…", She started, but couldn't seem to finish her sentence. "I'm just a girl. Just a normal girl without the mask. What's your name?" Beca politely asked.

At first, the girl didn't know how to respond. She had seen the woman standing before her on the news. Her Mother watched the news every day, and she recognized her face from a piece on an all-female acapella group at some college nearby.

"I'm Erica." The child nervously introduced herself, as Beca offered a small smile. "Nice to meet you, Erica. I'm… I'm Beca. Let's get you outta here, huh?"

But as Beca reached for the bonds once more, the hairs on her arm tensed up. She could hear… footsteps. Guns cocking in the distance. Shotguns, AR-15s, Walthers, Berettas, Uzis, and smoke pellets. Five men. This was gonna hurt.

"I can't let you out now." Beca said, as she pulled back on her mask and hood. "What? But, you said you would!" Erica protested. Beca's heart raced as she heard the footsteps coming closer.

"Listen to me, Erica. You need to trust me. There are guys with guns coming here right now. I need you to hide in the room across the hall. I'm gonna deal with these jerks. Can you do that?" Beca hurriedly asked. She didn't mean to spring this on the child, but she had to. Time was running out.

Erica's head bobbed up and down in understanding. "Good. Hide in that room. Don't come out until I say it's okay to come out." Beca silently commanded the girl, who quickly ran across the hall and into a supply closet, closing the door behind her. Then, Beca backed into a dark corner, obscured by shadows once more.

* * *

The five men were nerve-wracked. Sweat soaked their faces beneath their masks. "Let's go! Let's go!" The leader, a muscular man with an assault rifle gripped tightly in his hands, commanded, before they stood directly outside the door where the Doctor said he would be operating.

"Smoke pellets ready." A slightly skinnier man holding an Uzi in his left hand, and a handful of smoke pellets in his other, whispered. "If you see anyone in there that isn't the kid or Doctor Wells, shoot on sight." The leader called out.

"Pellets dropping in three… two… one." A third man said, before the criminal with smoke pellets in his grasp let go, and threw them into the room.

"Masks on." A fourth man called out, to which the five men proceeded to put on said goggles, so as to see through the smoke, and, as a bonus, avoid coughing. "Enter the room." The fifth man spoke.

The five gunmen slowly walked into the room. "I can't see anything in here. It's too dark." The skinny man complained. "That's because the fucking lights are broken, genius." The second-in-command growled.

"Hey, slick. Do us all a favor and shut up. We need to stay focused, and that means-", the leader began, before being interrupted by the gasp of the fourth man. "Oh, God. EVERYONE! Get your asses over here, now!"

The four other men, who had been formerly scattered throughout the room, paced over towards the table, where the now unconscious Doctor Wells lay next to. "Holy shit. What the Hell happened to-ARGH!" The fifth man howled in pain.

"Soldier? What the Hell is-AGH!" The fourth yelled. The leader's heart was racing at rapid fire speed. Not only were his men being taken out one by one, he couldn't see _how_ or _who_ was taking them out one by one.

"Stay calm! Let's just-", SNAP. "ARGH!" The third man screamed, before another blow was landed unto his body, knocking him unconscious. As the leader aimed his gun, he saw the second man drop his weapon, and begin running.

"WHAT ARE YOU DOING?! HELP ME!" He exclaimed. "Fuck you, man! You're on your own!" The second-in-command yelled, before making his exit from the smoke-filled torture chamber.

As he ran, the second-in command heard what sounded like a bone snapping. He recognized his leader's voice, and heard his horrible howl of pain before once more, another blow landed, this one more powerful than the last.

The smoke had finally cleared. Once more, Beca could see the room. And what a mess it had become. The men that were so determined beforehand had been reduced to a pile on the floor.

Her breath was heavy. Heavier than she had felt before. She wanted to rest. To close her eyes, for she felt tired. It had been a long night. But she didn't. She couldn't. Innocent lives were still at stake. And there were still more men in the building. " _There's gonna be Hell to pay."_

She paced out of the room, before standing up against the supply closet door. "Beca?" Erica's small voice called out from behind the wood. "It's okay, kid. You can come out, now." Beca whispered in a calm voice.

Two seconds later, and the girl opened the door. "Look, I need you to tell me something. It's very important. You ready?" She asked, as Erica nervously nodded her head. "Okay. I know that there are other kids here. And you know that I'm not gonna let them get hurt. So I need to know where they are. Can you tell me if you know?"

Erica pursed her lips. She was still afraid. Beca could tell just judging by the expression on her face. And she didn't blame her. "Erica, please, tell me where they are. I swear, I will get you and them out of here. I promise. I won't let anyone take you away ever again."

* * *

In the center of the building, there was a room. In this big room, there were boxes containing weapons, substances that could only be found on the black market, and God only knows what else there was hidden in the labs they had stationed all across the room.

The remaining men that were assigned to guard the place had their weapons raised. All of them wielded something in their arms, all with the intention of killing. Whether it be knives, or grenades, shotguns, assault rifles, or semi-automatics, or even a simple handgun, they were all armed. Some of them had their weapons locked and loaded already. Others were just getting started prepping themselves.

One thing was for certain: all of them had to be prepared for whatever the Hell was about to come at them.

"Gentlemen, remember your training! What we are dealing with can't be anything more than a well-trained task force with a few people sent in to deal with us. They've been successful, but that's about to end once they meet our firepower. Whatever they've got, they aren't prepared for us."

As one of the few remaining commanders made a decent attempt to reassure his troops, the sound of footsteps made its way to their ears. Coming from the central corridor.

"Move to location!" A second man called out. His orders were followed, as all the men moved to the corridor, some crouching down so as to get a better angle, others standing tall to see better. All were nervous, but some wouldn't show it.

For ten split seconds, nobody did or heard anything. There was no movement in the room. The men with guns, knives, and grenades stood in their assigned positions, completely still. For ten split seconds, there was complete silence. Nothing but the sense of suspense and dread in the air.

And then, from out of the shadows of the corridor came a figure. A person of smaller stature. She wore a pair of grey jeans, a leather jacket, and had both a dark blue mask and a black hood draped over her head. And the only attribute of this person's face that remained visible to them all was the clear blue eyes that could be seen through the holes of her mask.

At first, all of the men thought it was a joke. A sick prank. None of them believed, for a second, that this was what they were afraid of. What they had been prepping their weapons for. What they were all dreading without thinking straight. A small person in a poorly-made Halloween costume.

But what took them all of guard was that the person didn't stop walking directly towards them. The sight of their guns didn't scare whoever the person coming at them was. If anything, the look on her face said she was even more determined.

The leader had seen enough, and made up his mind. "Fire." He commanded. And just like that, all of the men clicked the triggers on their weapons, and shot on sight.

Bullets flew into the air, and directly at Beca. One by one, every bullet landed on her chest and abdomen. She couldn't be killed by a single one of them. And yet, that was both a blessing and a curse.

For as much as she still couldn't be killed, she felt the impact of every bullet. Every shot taken hit her, and she couldn't ignore the feeling she felt every time one pierced her skin. It hurt. Not as much as it would a normal person, but the pain was still there. And it was still felt by her.

Eventually, she fell to the ground, flat on her knees, her hands by her sides. She groaned in pain. There was no blood. Only the shock of the bullets. It stung, like a bee or a hornet in the summertime.

" _No more. I can't… I can't take anymore."_

She thought she could just lie there. Lie there and let herself be taken for dead by the soldiers. Lay until she woke up, and was shot once more, possibly with more firepower than before. For Beca, all hope seemed to be lost, until…

"LET US OUT!"

"PLEASE, HELP US!"

"I WANT TO GO HOME!"

Voices. The voices of children. The children they had kidnapped. The children that were prisoners, just as she had been. Small, naive, innocent children that were seen as nothing more than guinea pigs for the sick, twisted games of the men in that room.

Her eyes shot wide open. Mustering all the strength she could, Beca slowly got off of the ground. She sprung to her feet, the pain in each groan and breath threatening to take hold of her.

" _Come on, Mitchell… come on… remember the kids… remember the fire… remember everything. Make them feel all the pain you've felt._ _"_

She gritted her teeth as the bullets that had so harshly forced their way onto her body began to fall right off. One by one, each and every bullet fell to the floor. And with each bullet, the men that fired their weapons voiced their emotions without even saying a word.

All at once, shock, awe, and horror all crossed their faces. "Oh, fuck. She's-" the leader began, only to stop as, right before all of their very eyes, their weapons slowly but surely were ripped from their grip, and disassembled without even being touched. One by one, every assault rifle, everything they had armed themselves with, was completely dismantled.

Beca didn't even need to look under their masks. She already knew that beneath them were the terrified faces of the people she had quickly accepted as enemies.

Then, as they slowly realized what had happened, Beca stood before them, standing taller than she could have ever imagined herself being. And suddenly, she no longer recognized herself.

In that moment, Rebecca Anne Mitchell became something more than who she had pretended to be for the duration of her life. For the person who she made people believe she was would never do what she was about to do.

* * *

"She told me to look away. She told me that I didn't have to see what she was going to do. But I didn't listen." Erica explained, as Emily nodded her head intently.

"She hurt the bad people. She did worse things to them than they would've done to us. But the scary thing was that she didn't say anything. The whole time, she just beat them down, and didn't make any noises. She didn't give them a chance to stand up. She just couldn't be stopped." The child continued.

All the while, Emily's eyes widened in horror at the thought of a little girl having to witness what she saw. " _The poor kid must've been scared."_

Finally, Jessica had heard enough to muster up the confidence to go over and say something. "Sorry, Em. But I want to ask a few questions of my own."

As soon as she said this, Erica looked directly at her, then at Emily, who also looked up at her. Mouthing the word 'please', Jessica saw the looks of desperation on both their faces. And she gave in to her more compassionate side. "Fine. Finish the story to Emily. But I want to hear the rest of it. Tell me what happened after this woman did whatever she did to these bad men."

* * *

The only soldier that remained conscious was one with a fractured leg. He crawled on the floor, desperate to escape from the Hell that had been unleashed upon him and his men.

He was just close enough to one of the trucks when his hand was suddenly and abruptly stepped on by the woman he had been brutalized by. He screamed, and looked up at his emotionless attacker in tears. "JESUS…"

Twisting her head slightly, she cruelly hissed, "Oh, I'm sorry. I should've aimed for the spot that hurts most."

The mook knew there was no use pleading, for she had quickly applied pressure to his left leg. He screamed in pain, tears fully flowing down his face.

"Now… the other children. Where are they?" The attacker asked in a low growl. It sounded non-human. He tried lying. "I… I don't know…" He soon came to realize it was a bad choice, as she placed her second foot on his leg, urging a screech of pain.

"OKAY! Okay… they're in here. There's a room… a room in the back! But you can't get in-", He started, only for her to step off his leg, and grab him by the shoulders, slamming him into the truck door.

"How do I get in?" She coldly asked, as he howled with pain. "I swear to God, I don't know! Please, stop hurting me! Please... I was just doing my job..." He pleaded.

Even she couldn't bare to see this pathetic louse writhe and screech in pain. She delivered a kick to his face, one that knocked him out instantly. As he lay in pain, Beca ran to the back of the big room, past rows and rows of chemicals, until she reached a sealed shut metal door.

She pressed her ear to the door. Inside, she heard the frightened, heavy breathing of five children. She found her own breathing slowly getting heavier and heavier. The more they screamed for help, or for their parents, the angrier she became.

It wasn't until she felt her right hand touch something that didn't match the texture of the rest of the wall. Removing her ear, and turning to face the wall, Beca felt around until her pointer finger touched something round and small. She pressed it.

And automatically, a door opened. And inside was a room. A small room. It was a nightmare for claustrophobics. Tiny, enclosed, and almost completely devoid of color except for the white tiles on the wall.

Beca could only stare at the children, as they stared at her in response. She gulped, her breath becoming heavy once more as they looked at her with horror in their eyes.

It wasn't like they didn't have a reason to. Blood covered her clothing. The blood of the men that had taken them, and planned to torture them.

In all of their eyes, Beca saw only terror and confusion. She was at a complete loss for words, until Erica came in behind her, and stood directly next to her legs. She looked down at her, and looked back at the other five children.

"I know you're all scared. I know you guys are thinking about why you were taken, or why I have blood on me, or why I'm here at all. And all I can say is that these men were bad people. They took you for their own gain, not because of something you did, or something you didn't do. I know because I've seen this happen before. And I want you all to know that the blood on me is the blood of those men. I hurt those men so that they would think of what I did to them the next time they considered taking anyone else. And I want you all to know that from now on, no matter what happens, you'll all be safe. I promise."

* * *

Erica tiredly sighed, her head light and her entire body exhausted. "That's all I have to say."

Having heard everything she needed to know, Emily took a slight sigh of relief. Like Erica, she too was exhausted. Her head was spinning from what she had just forced herself to hear every minute of. And all she wanted to do was take a breather.

"Okay… thank you, sweetie. I'll let you talk to Ms. Smith now, okay?" Emily nicely said, as the child nodded her head in understanding. Taking a deep breath, she walked over to Benji, and could do nothing but stare at him in silence.

"Hey, I'm sorry. I know that was hard to hear, and I just want to make sure you're okay." Benji sadly said, earning him a sad chuckle from the freshman.

She crossed her arms, before saying, "Benji, you remember how I told Ross about some kind of vigilante saving Stacie?" The curly haired boy nodded his head. "Yeah, I remember. Why? Do you think that the person who saved these kids is the same person?"

Emily nodded her head. "I think it is. I mean, Stacie mentioned something about her not even having to touch most of the guys she took out. The little girl even said something about her being shot at by several armed guys with guns. Nobody survives that. And nobody just walks away from that without even a single drop of blood. The same with how nobody does the same thing when they're stabbed in the shoulder."

The more Emily talked, the more Benji's eyes widened, and the more he began to truly consider just how much things were possibly beginning to add up.

"This is freaky. This is every shade of freaky. I mean, Jesus, somebody with superpowers? In Atlanta? There've been rumors, but nothing concrete." Benji nervously said, as Emily nodded in agreement.

Then, after standing up and walking away from the children so that they could be inspected by the police, Jessica walked over to her partners, looking paler than a sheet. "Are you guys thinking what I'm thinking?"

Benji and Emily simultaneously shook their heads, with only Benji responding. "Well, unless you think that the person who rescued Stacie is the same person who rescued these kids, then we'd be thinking what you're thinking."

The blonde nodded her head. "That, and I think that… I think that the Chicago Vigilante is back."

Benji looked taken by surprise, while Emily remained confused. "Wait, who?" She asked, before Jessica quickly responded. "Back in 2010 and 2011, there were rumors. Rumors about someone with superpowers, a lot of them sounding really similar to what the people we've talked to have told us about, and only now she's making a return? I have so many questions, but the first that come to mind are these: one, why is this person only returning now? And two, who is she?"

* * *

A lone figure stood atop Baker Hall, observing Barden University from as high a vantage point that she could find. Her eyes were closed, so as to allow for a better means of truly using her added sense. All around her, she heard only what her senses allowed for her to her, and as far as they could stretch out across the world.

She heard Mothers and Fathers reading bedtime stories to their children, people arguing, the cries of small children, dishes being washed, diner employees singing to themselves, and sirens in the distance.

Looking down at herself, at all the bulletholes in her clothes, the blood on her shirt and pants, before finally staring off into the distance, she spoke to herself in a hushed whisper, "My work will never be done. Just the way I'm used to."

 _Author's Note: I am so sorry that this got delayed. I didn't mean for this to happen, as I merely became caught up with other aspects of my life, namely getting a job, applying for colleges, and dealing with school, and it didn't help that I got stuck at several points writing other stories. But a combination of reevaluating myself as a writer and deciding that it was time to start balancing things out more gave me the courage to want to continue this! For all of you still interested in reading this one, I hope you're ready for a wild ride!_

 _ZRyder, you're more than welcome for the shoutout, because you're awesome! Also, to becamitchellbeale345, this might be a long walk through Hell, especially considering what I have planned, but don't worry, the pace will pick up!_

 _The next chapter is going to see the Bellas actually begin to face adversity with their own problems, as Beca's secret life and normal life begin to collide, and Jessica and Emily continue to investigate our little superhero! I'm so excited to see you guys read it just as much as I am excited to write it!_

 _Anyhow, that's all for today, or so I think! I'll see you all next time! Until then, I'm the Flying Hawaiian 001, signing off!_

 _P.S, the biggest influences on this story are the Netflix Daredevil show, my favorite superhero show, Spider-Man PS4, which I haven't stopped playing since September, and Unbreakable, one of my all-time favorite movies._


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